Blake, Whitney and PLASMA: A Thousand Shades of Grey
by Aardvark123
Summary: The world is not just black and white. For Blake Stormheart, this fact stands out even more than his wierd surname as he, his loyal(ish) pokémon Samantha and a few close friends travel across Unova, facing powerful gym leaders, meeting all manner of pokémon, and eventually facing off against the mysterious P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation... (A deeper adaptation of Pokémon: Black and White.)
1. Chapter 1

**~Introduction~**

This story is a loose adaptation of the fifth-generation Pokémon games, Pokémon Black Edition and Pokémon White Edition, set in a beautiful (I hope) hybrid of the animé and game worlds. It also shares a few similarities with the manga, but I have done my best to follow the games' storylines.

Blake and Whitney are, respectively, based on the male and female player characters for the game. I have taken a few liberties with how Bianca and Cheren are portrayed, but that's how I percieve them. If you've got a problem with that, make your own adaptation.

In this universe, Ash Ketchum and all his companions exist. However, he never comes to Unova, instead deciding to take Dawn on a tour of Kanto. He will not make any appearances in this story other than in this foreword. I might write about his and Dawn's adventures once I've finished this story, but don't hold your breath. I'm a busy man.

Now, without further ado, on with the story!

**~Chapter One: Leaving the Nest and Taking Flight~**

"For crying out loud, where is she?!"

Blake had been waiting on his bed for twenty minutes after his friend Bianca was supposed to arrive, and she was showing no signs of getting any closer. "I mean, she's been waiting to get her first pokémon for five years, and..." Blake trailed off, aware that Cheren, his other, more timely friend, wasn't really listening. He decided to try something.

"Hey, is that a group of hydreigons out there destroying the town?!" cried Blake, nudging Cheren on the shoulder.

"Yes, of course. Very interesting," said Cheren, still staring through his stylish glasses at the book in his hands.

Ordinarily, Blake would have given Cheren one of his most utterly exasperated sighs, but today was different. Today, he was too excited for petty squabbles. Today was, so far, the second-best day of his life. Bianca, the rather excitable girl who lived next door, was bringing the two lads their first pokémon, courtesy of their neighbour Professor Juniper. The professor was said to be the cleverest person in the entire Unova region, so she knew that when she needed something done, it was best to recruit a group of teenagers with attitude and get them to do it. Blake wasn't sure he or his mates had much in the way of attitude, but they all loved pokémon, so it would probably turn out all right.

"Maybe we should go and look for Bianca," suggested Blake, getting restlessly to his feet. Cheren nodded his approval, so Blake took his red-and-white hat from the hatstand by the door (by the time Ash Ketchum had saved the world a few times, they were the height of fashion for pokémon trainers), stepped carefully over a pile of books on the landing, and was just about to go down the stairs when a bundle of joy almost collided with him.

"Hiya!" the bundle of joy greeted him.

"Hi, Bianca. Don't worry, our beards haven't started growing yet," Blake greeted her. Bianca giggled, brushing some of her fair hair out of her eyes.

"So, you have pokémon for us to raise, I take it?" asked Cheren, emerging from Blake's bedroom with a slightly amused look in his eyes.

"Yep! They're in here," replied Bianca. She stood up and reached into her handbag. She paused, looking slightly confused, and rushed off downstairs.

"Oh, for-" began Cheren.

"Here we are!" said Bianca cheerily, making her way slightly more carefully up the stairs. She was holding three small spheres, each of which was red on one half and white on the other, with a white button in between. Blake and Cheren instantly recognised them as poké-balls: pocket-sized devices to hold pokémon while their trainers weren't battling with them.

"Now... Blake, you're a nice fellow, so I think a cute little oshawott would be best for you," suggested Bianca, handing Blake one of the poké-balls.

"Thanks!" Blake thanked her, accepting the ball with a rising sense of excitement.

"And as for Mr Snooty-Pants, here, what else but a snivy?" Bianca continued, handing Cheren the second poké-ball.

"Snooty-pants?!" cried Cheren. "I merely happen to be a talented scholar and a connioseuer of haute cuisine with a mellifluous tongue and an extensive vocabulary of terminology and obscure dialect phrases who is infinitely superior to you in every way!"

"That's what I meant, snooty-pants!" giggled Bianca, pressing the poké-ball into his hand.

"Bianca, you're fourteen. Grow up," suggested Cheren heavily.

"Well, so are you," Blake pointed out reasonably. Cheren glared at him.

Bianca cleared her throat. "Anyway, this last pokémon is mine. It's a tepig," she said proudly, showing off a third poké-ball. "Professor Juniper says we should bond with them, then go and see her tomorrow 'cause she has a mission for us, and my dad says we can use the little hollow next to Braviary's Talon to practise battling. He wants me to be good at it before I need to leave home so I won't get hurt, y'know?" Braviary's Talon was what people from Nuvema Town called the old, pointy-looking watchtower next to Route 1, after Unova's most powerful flying-type pokémon.

"Jolly good," said Cheren levelly.

"Awesometastic!" Blake agreed, not levelly at all. Ever since he knew what pokémon were, he'd wanted to meet as many of them as he could; and if he won gym badges, took on the Unova League and became famed in song and legend in the process, so much the better. And now that it was actually happening, just saying "fantastic" or "awesome" simply wouldn't be enough to emphasize how excited he was.

"Come on, you two!" suggested Blake, rushing off downstairs, gleefully aware of the Oshawott's poké-ball resting in his hand. He skidded to a halt in the hallway beside his mother's collection of antique swords and battle trophies, which she was admiring.

"Me, Bianca and Cheren are going out for a bit, Mum," he informed her, after making sure she wasn't so deep in her reminiscences as to mistake him for an enemy.

"Okay. What'll you be doing?" she asked.

"Oh, just hanging out..." Blake replied reservedly. "With our pokémon!" he added, proudly showing off the poké-ball in his hand.

"Oh, wow!" Blake's mother cried, admiring the poké-ball. She noticed Cheren and Bianca arriving more sedately behind her and her son. "I expect the three of you'll be off to bring glory to Nuvema Town and vanquish the forces of evil, then."

"Possibly," said Cheren.

"But we're mostly just gonna have fun," Bianca added.

"Good! You should never take these things too seriously," Blake's mother advised her. "Unless you actually _are_ vanquishing the forces of evil, in which case you should definitely take it very seriously. Otherwise, you'll probably end up being killed. You see, the thing about the forces of evil is they've no qualms with hurting children and using dishonourable tactics. One of you should probably learn some sort of martial arts, or I could teach you how to..." she trailed off. Blake, Cheren and Bianca were long gone.

* * *

"All right, tepig, I choose you!" shouted Bianca. She spun around on her foot three times, leapt in the air and threw her tepig's poké-ball across the shallow, grassy hollow in front of Braviary's Talon. Blake noticed with approval that she was copying the form of all the best pokémon trainers from films and TV, so it was obviously a very practical and realistic method of calling out pokémon. Cheren merely raised an eyebrow.

The poké-ball landed and immediately split in two along the line between its red half and white half, revealing a glowing red core of energy. There was a blinding flash of light, after which Bianca's tepig was standing in front of the poké-ball. The poké-ball flew back to Bianca's hand as if by magic, attracting a curious look from the little pokémon.

"So that's a tepig," commented Blake. He'd seen pokémon before, but never up close and personal like this, in such a quiet place as Nuvema Town.

"Oh, wow, he's so cute!" cried Bianca, rushing over to her tepig. He was an orange quadruped with a pig-like nose and snout, a black patch around his waist, more black around his wide, ovoid eyes, and a yellow patch between his long, round ears, which were also black. He was about knee-high, and his curly tail was tipped with a red orb.

"Tep?" said the tepig curiously.

"My name's Bianca. I'll be your trainer from now on," Bianca informed the tepig, kneeling so he could get a better look at her.

"Tepig?" said the tepig curiously.

"I think I'll call you Templeton," proposed Bianca.

"Tep tepig tep," acknowledged the tepig. Templeton lay down in front of Bianca, looking content. Bianca looked at him for a few moments, slightly put out by his lack of cheer and joi de vivre, then shrugged and turned to Blake and Cheren.

"Your turn!" Bianca declared.

"When you say 'your turn', which 'your' do you refer to? Me or Cheren?" asked Blake.

"I think you mean 'to which 'your' do you refer? Cheren or I'?" Cheren corrected him.

"For that remark, it'll be my turn!" retorted Blake, throwing his oshawott's poké-ball over to Bianca and her tepig. From within materialised a small, blue-and-white bipedal pokémon with a round head, a cute little yellow nose, flat ears, and a cream-coloured shell on its belly.

"Osha!" the oshawott shouted, somersaulting over to Templeton, taking the shell off her tummy in the process. Holding the shell in the 'en garde' position, she gently nudged Templeton on his nose.

"Hey! What do you think your oshawott's doing?!" demanded Bianca. "For that matter, what does he think he's doing, and what does he think you're doing, hurting my poor, innocent little tepig like this?!"

"Don't look at me!" protested Blake.

"Some pokémon are naturally more aggressive than others. This particular oshawott is a warrior, through and through," Cheren suggested.

"Oh. Listen, Oshawott, that tepig's your friend, or at least a non-enemy acquaintance," he declared.

"Osha?! Oshawott wott osha!" protested the oshawott, turning her back very meaningfully on Blake. Blake stared in disbelief. This wasn't how pokémon were supposed to be! Blake was aware that Cheren was smirking at him, which couldn't be allowed. He knew there were two ways to gain the trust and loyalty of pokémon, so he promptly chose one. It was not necessarily correct.

"Oshawott, I am your master, and you will obey me! Now kneel before me and beg my forgiveness, or so help me, I'll-" a blob of mud splattered onto his face. After wiping it off, he saw the oshawott standing beside a small mud patch, carefully preparing an arsenal of mud balls. Cheren, Bianca and Templeton were watching from a safe distance.

"Okay, Oshawott, perhaps we've got off on the wrong foot," said Blake placatingly, sitting down in a completely non-threatening way in front of the oshawott. "My name's Blake Stormheart. Pleased to meet you," he declared, never one to miss an opportunity to remind people his surname was Stormheart. Blake offered the oshawott his hand. She glared at the hand with undisguised contempt.

"Do you have a name?" Blake persisted. The oshawott made no reply. "Is it Geoffrey?" asked Blake. The Oshawott shook her head. "Is it Francis?" The oshawott shook her head. "Simon? Arnold? Cameron? Jeremiah? David? William? Tethys? Victor? Michael? Norbert? Brian? Frederick?" Blake persisted. The oshawott rolled her eyes. Of all the humans in all the world, she had to end up saddled with this one?! Then again, his dogged persistence was heartening.

"Osha! Oshawott wott wott," the oshawott interrupted Blake, making a few meaningful hand gestures.

"What? Don't you have a name? Or is it something unpronouncable?" asked Blake.

"Actually, I think it's a girl," Bianca pointed out.

"What? Oh..." Blake realised he was being stupid, and more than a little bit sexist. "Are you a female oshawott?" he asked.

"Osha!" shouted the oshawott triumphantly.

"All right, then. Is your name Samantha?" asked Blake. The oshawott looked surprised for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay then, you're Samantha! Pleased to meet you, Samantha," said Blake happily, shaking her by the hand.

"I love a happy ending!" said Bianca cheerily.

"What do you mean, happy ending? We still haven't seen my beautiful snivy," Cheren pointed out. "I choose you, snivy!" he added, lobbing his poké-ball onto the grass. It released a slender green pokémon, with its pointy snout and whiplike, leaf-tipped tail making it look like a snake with legs.

"Snivy! Snivy sni!" the snivy greeted Cheren.

"Ooh!" commented Bianca.

"Greetings and salutations, young snivy," said Cheren. "I am Cheren, son of Gerald and Christobel, and firstborn of the House of McTavish, and I am your new trainer. May I say what an honour it is to have such a fine young lady as yourself in my team?" he added, not wanting to make the same mistake Blake had.

"Snive?" asked the snivy, looking curiously at Cheren. "Snivy!" she added happily, noticing the mud Samantha had been throwing at Blake. She ran over to the mud and started splodging around with reckless abandon, splattering Samantha, who quickly clambered up onto Blake's shoulder to get out of reach.

Cheren stared in disbelief. "But... snivies are supposed to be refined, aren't they?" he asked.

"Well, tepigs are supposed to be all playful and excited," Bianca pointed out. Templeton was lying peacefully on the ground, occasionally letting out a puff of white smoke from his nose. Were it not for that smoke, he could easily be mistaken for a cuddly toy.

"And as for Samantha, whoever heard of an oshawott not getting on with its trainer?" Blake asked, giving Samantha a meaningful look. She did not react.

"I suppose we all have misfit pokémon, then. Now, Snivy, what shared interests do we have? If we are to bond as Professor Juniper suggested, it will help if we have something in common," said Cheren. Like most pokémon trainers, he was using his snivy's species as her name. "I don't imagine you are interested in poetry, natural history or art, so... How about battling?"

Snivy perked up. "Snivy!" she said happily, striking a heroic pose on a small rock near the mud.

"Excellent! Now, how about a duel between you and Blake's oshawott?" proposed Cheren. "I know all the local pokémon species by heart, so don't worry about me not having any snivy-related experience."

"Er..." said Blake unsurely.

"You do want to become a great pokémon trainer, do you not?" asked Cheren.

"Of course! Samantha, how about it?" asked Blake.

"Osha..." replied Samantha, meaning something along the lines of "If I must..."

"In that case, I'll be the referree. Trainers, take positions at opposite sides of the battlefield!" commanded Bianca. Blake and Cheren shook hands in a formal, honourable sort of way, then headed in opposite directions until they were about ten metres apart. Samantha and Snivy followed their trainers, looking fierce battle-ready.

"The battle will be one-on-one, finishing if and when one of the pokémon is unable or refuses to battle!" declared Bianca, having memorised all the refereeing speeches from her favourite TV programmes. "No cheating, mind, or I'll tell your parents. Start fighting... now!"

Blake and Samantha looked into each other's eyes, single-mindedly determined for victory. Although they had started out as enemies, it was clear that between them-

"Use leer," commanded Cheren. Snivy nodded, then glared at Samantha with murderous hatred, rapidly reducing Samantha's defensive capabilities. Don't ask me to explain why, it's just what leering does.

Blake blinked. "Um, Samantha, let's respond with-"

"Tackle," ordered Cheren, and he gave a satisfied smirk as Snivy smashed into Samantha, knocking the oshawott onto her back.

Blake cringed. Samantha was doing badly, possibly because he was taking too long to think of what to do. "Water gun!" he ordered, it being the first water-type attack in his mind.

Samantha put her head in her hands. Cheren chuckled, looking at Blake with a cross between contempt and pity. "Oh, Blake... First of all, your oshawott is not powerful enough to use water gun yet. Second, even if she was, water gun would be ineffective against Snivy. You have a lot to learn before we embark on whatever mission Professor Juniper has in store for us. I'll tell you what, Snivy and I will put an end to this quickly. Tackle!"

"Jump as high as you can!" shouted Blake. He had no idea why that particular sentence entered his mind, but it worked. Samantha leapt high above Snivy, whose momentum caused her to crash into Blake's legs.

Cheren's eyes widened. "Quick, Snivy, turn around! Use tackle again!"

"Samantha, counter-tackle her from the side!" ordered Blake, staggering slightly as Snivy pushed off from his knees. Samantha rushed over to the oncoming Snivy, cartwheeled away to the left and bore Snivy to the ground.

"Use leer while she's down!" commanded Blake, looking triumphant. Samantha, also looking triumphant, leered at Snivy with all her might as the leafy snake clambered to her feet, equalising the two pokémon's defences. Victory was surely near; all he had to do was-

"Tackle," ordered Cheren calmly. Snivy charged at Samantha, sending her flying. Samantha struggled to her feet, clearly hurt, but still with a fiery heart.

Blake bit his lip, cursing himself for getting distracted. Cheren was famous throughout Nuvema Town for his love of computer games, so he had probably learnt complete concentration from many long hours spent gaming. Compared to him, Blake was living in cloud cuckoo land. "Tackle, and give it some welly!" he ordered. Samantha ran at Snivy, putting all her strength into the charge.

"We'll use tackle too," said Cheren levelly. Snivy rushed at Samantha. The two pokémon collided like atoms in a particle accelerator, glaring furiously at each other as they vied for position in midair. Then the laws of physics won out, Snivy and Samantha fell to the ground and slowly keeled over. Blake and Cheren both sighed with relief.

"Both pokémon are unable to battle, so the battle ends in a tie! Congratulations, Blake and Cheren, you've both won!" declared Bianca happily. Blake smiled at her as he picked Samantha up. The little blue otter was bruised in several places, but he knew she would be fine. As everyone knew, when pokémon became badly injured in a battle, they would enter a deep healing trance, and were referred to as having fainted. It still pained him, though, to see Samantha looking like that.

"You fought well, Samantha. I'm sorry I wasn't really on the ball at the start of the battle," he said softly.

"You may not be a lady, Snivy, but you certainly are a warrior. Good try," agreed Cheren, who would never allow Blake to outdo his compassion.

Bianca looked at Templeton. "Do you think you could fight like that?" she asked.

"Tep..." said Templeton dubiously.

* * *

And thus did it come to pass that the three Nuvema Town teenagers and their three pokémon companions trained long into the night, growing stronger by the hour. Snivy, Templeton and Samantha's power grew with the blazing spirits of their trainers, until all six were certain nothing could stand in their way. And all too soon (i.e. tomorrow morning), Blake, Bianca and a few other villagers were waiting outside the gates of Nuvema Town for Cheren and Professor Juniper.

"...I mean, really! The one time his timeliness might come in handy, and he's not here!" Blake complained. He looked to see Bianca's reaction, only to discover she was deep in conversation with her father, known outside his family only as Mr Redwood. He was a serious, bearded man, currently showing Bianca a stack of books.

"This one's about how to raise strong, healthy pokémon..." he handed his daughter a well-thumbed hardback, "...and this is the Hitchhiker's Guide to Unova..." he handed Bianca a paperback, also well read, "...and here's my personal favourite, How to Train your Dragonite!" He handed Bianca the last book, a fairly new book with a picture of a dragonite, a salamence and a hydreigon fighting above a snowy peak.

"Thanks, Daddy, but I already know most of this. You know, 'cause you wouldn't even let me watch pokémon stuff on TV until I knew as much as Professor Juniper?" Bianca pointed out.

"There's a lot of information in these books, Bianca. Who knows when you'll desperately need some little bit of information you happen to have forgotten? Besides, your bag's got mass dampening technology. It won't weigh you down," Mr Redwood pointed out.

"All right, then," said Bianca.

"That's my girl!" Mr Redwood reached inside his pocket. "Now, do you know how to use a whistle and pepper spray? Oh, and I think I've got a life jacket in here..."

Blake's mum rolled her eyes. "Honestly, if he had his way she'd still be in nappies!"

Mr Redwood, who had good hearing, rounded on her. "Oh?! And just who are you to question my methods, madam? You haven't prepared Blake at all!"

"Actually, Mr Redwood, she taught me karate and fencing. I'm not even remotely good at either of them, but she did prepare me," Blake pointed out.

Mr Redwood shot him a withering look. "...Anyway, Bianca, if you get attacked by a wild pokémon and your own pokémon aren't able to protect you, spray this in its eyes. If it doesn't have eyes, whistle to attract help, and if your whistle's broken, scream. If you can't scream... well... Are you sure you want to be a pokémon trainer?"

"Absolutely!" replied Bianca, with hundred percent certainty.

"Thought so..." sighed Mr Redwood.

Any further conversation was stopped in its tracks by a shout from afar. "Behold greatness, mortals! Cheren the Magnificent is here!" roared Cheren, as he strode over to the group, his black leather cape billowing out behind him. On top of that, he had walking boots, a rakish blue hat, flying goggles, a scarf and a walking stick. Snivy's poké-ball hung from his belt along with five others, testament either to how well prepared he was or how much his parents doted on him.

"Cheren! What the...?! I mean...!" cried Bianca.

"Well, here I am!" declared Cheren, doing a little twirl so everyone could see his outfit. Blake looked at Bianca, giving her an almost imperceptible eye-roll.

"That cape is woefully impractical! It could get caught on a branch, weigh you down in the water, make you easier to see..." ranted Mr Redwood.

"I'm sorry, everyone, we couldn't stop him," said Cheren's long-suffering mother, Christobel, looking apologetic. Blake was about to say something when a tall, stylish woman appeared as if out of nowhere, clapping her hands for attention. It was Professor Juniper.

"Friends, Unovans, pokémon, lend me your ears!" she shouted. "You may be wondering why I've decided to give three ordinary children some powerful pokémon and then ask all of you to meet me out here. Well, it's quite simple. Do any of you know what one of these is?" The professor removed a small, flat object from her coat, which was a cross between a lab coat and something out of a Kalosian fashion magazine.

Cheren raised a hand. "A Nintendo DS?"

"Not quite. This item within my hands is a pokédex! One simply has to scan a pokémon with this device and it will reveal all of that pokémon's vital statistics, as well as any data currently known about the species. The thing is, this pokédex is the first of its kind ever to come to Unova, so there isn't much information in it. That is where you three come in!" declared Professor Juniper, somehow managing to include Blake, Bianca and Cheren in one sweep of her gaze. "I have four pokédexes here: one for me, and one for each of you. As pokémon trainers, you will no doubt encounter all manner of pokémon throughout our region, and I would like you to scan each and every one of them, enter any interesting facts you discover into the pokédex, and maybe send me a few specimens."

"WHAT?!" cried Cheren. "You mean you're going to use us as cheap labour?!"

Blake quickly moved in front of him. "I'll be glad to help you, Professor! We'll have those pokédexes filled before you even notice they're gone!" he declared loudly, accepting one of the pokédexes from her hand.

"Me too!" agreed Bianca. "I'm sure it'll be great fun for all three of us! And a great opportunity for learning life skills, of course." She took two more pokédexes, forcing one into Cheren's hand.

"But..." Cheren blustered.

"Not to mention the amount of lives all the stuff we find out about Unovan pokémon could save, and the advances in medical science and pokémonology..." said Blake meaningfully.

Cheren stared fixedly ahead for a few moments, mulling that bit of information over. "In that case, as a gentleman, is is my duty to lead our little party with all the skill and alacrity of a true son of the House of McTavish. Onwards!" he shouted, pointing out into Route 1 with his staff.

"Now?" asked Blake, as Cheren strode boldly forth.

"But of course! Time and pokémon wait for no-one," said Cheren sagely.

"Not even us?!" cried Christobel.

Cheren blushed slightly. "Oh. Well, of course. Mother, Father, I... You're both... I'll send you a postcard."

Blake rolled his eyes, turning back to his own mother. "I love you, Mum, and not just because I want to look better than Cheren," he declared, giving her a hug.

"Oh, Blake... There's no dishonour in doing something just because seeing someone else almost forget to do it reminded you," she said softly. "You're going to have to watch out for that, though. Don't just stay in Cheren's shadow all the time."

"I won't," Blake reassured her. "Goodbye, Mum! Goodbye, Mr Redwood! Goodbye, Professor Juniper! Goodbye, Gerald! Goodbye, Christobel!"

"Goodbye, everyone!" agreed Bianca laconically.

"Try not to get eaten, Bianca!" Mr Redwood advised her.

"What do you mean, you'll send a postcard?! You might not be seeing us for years!" Gereld protested.

"Cheren has a cross-transciever, doesn't he? Those things can handle video chats," Bianca pointed out.

"Well, yes, but that's beside the point! Cheren, would a hug or something really hurt that much?" Gerald persisted.

"No. Come on, you two. Adventure awaits us, no matter what those two imbeciles say!" shouted Cheren. Ignoring his parents' protests, he took Bianca and Blake by the hand and all but dragged them off along Route 1. "Farewell, Nuvema Town! We will bring honour and glory to you all!"

* * *

"He's off, then," said Christobel matter-of-factly.

"That's our Cheren," agreed Gerald. "A fiesty lad, but a bit..."

"A complete brat?" suggested Blake's mother.

"I heard Bianca call him a snooty-pants," proposed Mr Redwood.

"Don't worry about Cheren," Professor Juniper piped up. "Pokémon change people, and vice versa. And besides, what's the worst Cheren could do?"

"You're right," accepted Mr Redwood. "Anyway, Bianca's with them!"

There was a pause.

"Blake's with them, too," Mr Redwood added.

"Well, that's a weight off my heart..." said Christobel.


	2. Chapter 2

**~Chapter Two: Whitney and N Arrive, Not Necessarily in that Order~**

Route 1 smelled faintly of the sea, although the dense forest between the route and the beach dampened the effect somewhat. The route was not a very popular route, seeing as how only Nuvema Town was at the far end, so Blake, Bianca and Cheren had it all to themselves.

"Nice day for it, don't you think?" asked Bianca.

"Get of me, you filthy little-! Er, what? Oh, yes, of course it's- MY CAPE IS NOT A TOY!" shouted Cheren, pulling his slightly tattered cape out of reach of a small, puppy-like pokémon called a lillipup.

"Don't shout like that! You'll scare it!" said Bianca reproachfully. "Blake, isn't today a lovely day?"

"You're right about that," replied Blake. Blake saw the route with new eyes, or at least had decided to put that in his memoirs if he ever got famous enough to need memoirs. The wild patrats, purrloins, pidoves and lillipups enjoying the sun were no longer just wild pokémon to be admired from a distance, but potential new allies. And now that he had a pokédex and an urgent mission, he might as well catch some. He let his hand fall to his belt, from which hung his poké-balls... his poké-balls...? His single, solitary poké-ball containing Samantha. His single, solitary poké-ball which, no matter how sophisticated the technology behind it got, could only hold one pokémon.

Blake said something which isn't all that surprising for a fourteen-year-old to say, but which, seeing as this story is meant to be suitable for young children, we had better gloss over.

"What's wrong?" asked Bianca worriedly.

"We haven't brought any poké-balls! How are we gonna even scratch the surface of all the pokémon in Unova when we can't catch any?!" demanded Blake.

Bianca's eyes widened. "No poké-balls? But I've got plenty!" she declared, opening her bag to reveal, among all the books, supplies and self-preservation paraphernalia, several poké-balls. One of them had an orange sticker, probably so she would remember it was Templeton's. "If you haven't got any poké-balls, I'm sure I could spare a few," Bianca went on, handing Blake some poké-balls, which he accepted gratefully.

"Altruism wins the day, I see..." said Cheren.

"I'm sure you can spare some too, Cheren," Bianca prompted.

"No," replied Cheren. "Not unless both of you get on your knees and beg me, I mean..."

Bianca gave him a dirty look. Blake was about to say something, but Cheren somehow managed to preempt him, gesturing to a patch of tall, lush grass with his walking stick. "That place looks perfect for pokémon, and now that we've all got a few poké-balls, we'd better start working on those pokédexes. Onwards, for the glory of- And just what do you think you're doing?!" Cheren swatted ineffectually at a pidove who, as would be expected with her kind's legendary sense of direction, had landed on his hat.

"Good grief..." sighed Bianca.

* * *

"A fine day's pokémon gathering, if I do say so myself!" declared Cheren, striding with a spring in his step to meet up with Blake again.

"We've only been at it for twenty minutes," Bianca pointed out, "but you're right. I think I'm gonna call my new patrat George."

"George? Templeton sounded a bit like tepig, but George?! You should've called him Patrick, or something," Cheren suggested.

"Duly noted," lied Bianca. "So what are you going to call your lillipup?"

"Nothing," replied Cheren. "I fail to see the point behind naming pokémon."

"That's a bit snooty-pants-ish..." Bianca pointed out. "Anyway, where's Blake got to?"

* * *

As is generally the case after a scene change like this, Blake's heart was pounding. True, Samantha was doing all the work, but it was almost as if he was there too, a part of her soul.

"Finish him off, Samantha!" Blake ordered, looking triumphant as Samantha lamped the black-and-purple cat-like pokémon one with her detachable shell. The purrloin fell limply to the ground in a faint, giving Blake plenty of time to lob the last of Bianca's poké-balls at him. The poké-ball split open, enveloping the purrloin in a beam of red light. It sucked the purrloin inside and fell to the ground, where it wobbled for a moment, then gave off a cheery little "ding!". Blake attached the poké-ball to his belt, giving Samantha a cheerful grin.

"Three pokémon in one day... who'd've thought it?! See, Samantha? This is what happens when you trust people instead of throwing mud at them!" said Blake.

"Osha oshawott..." sighed Samantha.

Blake noticed she was rather sweaty. "Oh, you're tired... Well, that was quite a lot of battling you did, and against wild pokémon, too. Don't worry, I'll try to avoid any other battles for the rest of the day. But now, let's meet the rest of the team!" Blake tossed his three newly filled poké-balls into the air, releasing a patrat, a lillipup and the purrloin Samantha had only just finshed fighting. The three of them stood there for a moment, then as one, they collapsed in pain and exhaustion.

"Oh, they still haven't un-fainted... Do you think they'll like me, Samantha?" asked Blake.

Samantha shrugged.

"A good question indeed," said a new voice. Blake jumped, looking around wildly for the source of the voice.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is N," said the voice's owner, emerging from the forest beside the purrloin's former home. He was young and fairly handsome, clothed in white trousers, a white jacket and a white hat, all with black trim. What Blake found most outlandish, however, was his long, spiky green hair. Another purrloin was walking alongside him.

"Uh, pleased to meet you, N. I'm Blake Stormheart, and this is Samantha," said Blake, offering N his hand. Samantha waved at the new arrival.

"Delighted to meet you, Samantha!" said N happily. Ignoring Blake's hand, he squatted down in front of the oshawott and shook her warmly by the paw. "Tell me, is this young man your trainer?"

"Osha," Samantha confirmed. Blake looked on in confusion.

"I see. Do you like him?" asked N.

"Wott osha oshawott wott..." said Samantha neutrally. Blake felt slightly betrayed.

"And does he like you?" continued N.

"Of course I do!" declared Blake.

"Wott wott osha," agreed Samantha.

"Oh, good! So you're sort of friends, then." N fell silent for a moment, surveying the surroundings. "Tell me, Samantha... Those three pokémon you were ordered to beat up. Are they your friends too?"

"Oshawott oshawott wott oshawott," replied Samantha.

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't know yet... Now, Blake, you're probably wondering what just happened there. You see, I can talk to pokémon," declared N, rising to his feet.

"Really?!" cried Blake.

"You just saw me and Samantha hold a conversation, did you not?" N reasoned.

"I suppose so..." acknowledged Blake. "Are you a pokémon trainer, then?"

N looked almost insulted. "No! I am a friend to all pokémon, not one who uses them in competitive sports. To be frank, I find battles barbaric. The only was I could condone the practice is as a means for pokémon and their... trainers... to understand one another better," he said, saying "trainers" as if it hurt his tongue. "I would not force my dear friend Purrloin, here, to fight any enemy unless she was willing, or it was in self-defence. But enough about me. Tell me, young master Stormheart, what is your philosophy?"

Blake was becoming slightly unnerved by this new arrival, so he decided to play it safe. "I want to be the very best," he said, "like no-one ever was. To catch pokémon is my real test, to train them is my cause. I will travel across the land, searching far and wide, to understand the power that's inside each pokémon. Samantha's my best friend in a world we must defend; her heart's so true, our courage is sure to pull us through..." N's eyes were becoming glazed over, so Blake took pity on him. "I really love pokémon, and I want to meet as many of them as I can. I have a mission from Professor Juniper to record every Unovan pokémon in my pokédex, so that ties in nicely, and if I end up becoming the world's greatest pokémon master in the process, so much the better!"

"I see... So you see pokémon as nothing more than means to an end, is that it?" said N.

"No!" cried Blake. "I mean, If a pokémon doesn't want to battle for me, I won't force it to."

"And yet you were willing to have Samantha beat these three poor little dears up, then capture them without so much as a by-your-leave. It's a complicated web of morality, isn't it, when humans and pokémon come into contact?" asked N.

"Absolutely not! Pokémon and humans working together is the best thing ever to happen to either race, and it's pretty much the main reason why Japan is so brilliant nowadays!" said Blake righteously, although deep down, he was beginning to wonder about that.

"Well, Blake, we'll agree to differ. Anyway, I must be off, so have a little think about what I told you. And if I were you, I'd put those pokémon in their pokéballs. They'll be safer there, given how badly wounded they are..." So saying, N strolled off back through the forest, with Purrloin at his heels.

After a few moments, Blake looked at Samatha. "That was wierd..."  
Samantha nodded sagely.

"Anyway, we'd best be off," he said, recalling the purrloin, lillipup and patrat into their poké-balls. He looked at the balls for a few moments. Could they actually not have wanted to be captured?...

* * *

"Hi, Blake! I've caught a patrat called George, and Cheren caught a lillipup!" declared Bianca, as soon as Blake was within earshot.

"That's great! I'm sure they'll be glad to meet the three pokémon I caught," Blake responded, doing his best not to look smug. "They're just the usual pokémon from these areas, but I know in my heart, if I love them and believe in them, they can do anything!"

"Blake, I think you try a little bit too hard sometimes," commented Cheren.

"Well, let's just say something happened... Speaking of which, have you seen a slightly strange boy dressed in white? He had green hair," asked Blake.

"No, but there was a lady asking after such a fellow. HEY, WHITNEY! COME OVER HERE!" shouted Bianca.

"What? Who's Whitney?" asked Blake, realising he may have been left out of a crucial part of the conversation.

"She is," replied Bianca, gesturing to a girl about the same age as the three friends, with a very wide, fluffy ponytail on the back of her head. Whitney had been skulking around about ten metres from Cheren and Bianca, and she was now approaching the group, looking somewhat curious. Behind her walked a metallic, insect-like pokémon about a third of a metre high, with vicious-looking mandibles and red eyes.

"What is it?" asked Whitney.

"Blake, here, seems to have encountered the green-haired man you mentioned to us when we met a few minutes ago. Blake, this is Whitney, a woman we know next to nothing about, other than that she has an interest in boys with green hair," Cheren explained.

Whitney gave Blake an expectant look. "Oh, right. Well, Whitney, he was wearing mostly white, but there was a bit of black on his clothes, too. He had green hair, and he could talk to pokémon... I'm not making this up!"

"I believe you," Whitney assured him. "What was his name?"

"He said he was called N," replied Blake.

Whitney's eyes widened, as did those of the metal pokémon. "N?! Which way did he go?!"

"That way, I think," replied Blake, slightly taken aback by her urgency. He pointed towards where he had found the purrloin.

"Did you hear that, Durant?! He's right over there! Let's go!" cried Whitney, rushing off with her metal pokémon to find N.

It was a while before anyone spoke.

"That was odd..." commented Bianca.

"Thank you, Little Miss Stating The Completely Bloody Obvious," said Cheren.

* * *

About half an hour's walking later, the three friends arrived in the small, up-and-coming borough of Accumula Town. It had originally been built on a large and rather out-of-place hill, but by now the hill had been carved out into three separate tiers. The first tier was mostly parks, although a pokémon centre and a few houses could also be seen. The second tier contained rows upon rows of blocky, three-storey tenemants, and the third tier had a few high-class houses. Bianca, who had never been out of Nuvema Town before, looked around in wide-eyes amazement.

"This place is incredible! It's like they decided they couldn't be bothered to get rid of the mountain, so they built the city right on it! Wow!" Bianca cried.

"I'm glad you like this place. Now, we need a plan of action for Professor Juniper's mission. I suggest we-" began Cheren.

"Race you to the pokémon centre!" offered Bianca, rushing off at maximum speed.

"Well, taking care of our pokémon is definitely a priority, but-"

"You're on!" said Blake, dashing off after Bianca. What with Cheren's presence, he reasoned, he and Bianca would need to be especially immature from time to time in order to balance things out.

"Well, really!" sniffed Cheren, before striding haughtily off after them.

* * *

The pokémon centre was a warm, bright building, so Bianca and Blake felt at ease as soon as they stepped over the threshold. There were a few people hanging around inside, mostly young pokémon trainers, and a cute, chubby, pink-and-yellow pokémon was busy serving glasses of lemonade.

"I've never been inside a pokémon centre before," Bianca whispered.

"Nor have me and Cheren. This is one area where your sheltered upbringing won't put you at any disadvantage," Blake pointed out.

"Nor have Cheren and I," Cheren corrected Blake, as he materialised in the doorway behind them. "Now, to business! Do either of you know what that pokémon over there is?"

"I think it might be a Chansey..." replied Blake.

As if on cue, the cuddly pokémon noticed the three and bustled happily over to them. "Audino! Audi audino no audi!" he orated, pressing a glass of lemonade into Blake's hand, then Bianca's, and finally Cheren's hand.

"I think he might be called Audino," said Bianca.

"Aha! The first uncharted pokémon of Unova, discovered by yours truly!" declared Cheren, reaching into his pocket for his pokédex.

Blake gave him a funny look. "Uncharted? For all you know, audinos could be all over the place, and we just haven't seen any until now."

"Nevertheless," retorted Cheren, "I'd best enter it into the old pokédex. Could you stay there for a minute, young fellow?"

"Audino," replied the audino.

Cheren retrieved his pokédex and scanned the audino for a few seconds. The pokédex brought up a simple 3D model of the audino, and, in a tinny, synthetic voice, gave the following spiel: "Audino, the hearing pokémon. It is the kindest, most good-natured pokémon in Unova. Using the feelers on its ears, it can tell how someone is feeling or when an egg might hatch. Height: 1.1 metres. Weight: 31.0 kilograms. Type: normal. No further data available."

The audino gave the pokédex a curious look. Cheren, in an uncharacteristic display of friendliness, patted him on the head.

"Now," said Cheren, "follow my lead." He strode over to the reception desk, tapped the polished wooden surface with his walking stick, and waited patiently for a few seconds. Blake and Bianca looked on curiously as a young woman with two long, pink ponytails styled into loops at the back of her head emerged from a back room. She wore a veterinarian's uniform, so she was probably a Nurse Joy, one of the many mystical creatures who kept the world running in good order.

"Greetings and salutations, o fair veterinarian maiden thingy! I and my companions have been travelling for many a moon, and we and the pokémon who fight beside us are weary and in need of succour. I request a room for myself and my companions, with eight pokémon-sized beds," declared Cheren.

"Sure thing!" said the Joy perkily. She and her many sisters were used to unusual characters like Cheren, so she took him in her stride. "Could the three of you hand over your occupied poké-balls for a few moments, please?"

Cheren, Bianca and Blake handed the nurse their poké-balls. Cradling them in her arms, she whispered an incantation under her breath. The poké-balls began to glow, as did the Joy's heart, and after a few seconds she handed them back to Cheren.

"All done!" said the Joy happily. "Audino, show these three to a room, will you?"

The audino deposited his drinks tray on an empty table and pottered over to the reception desk. He led Blake, Cheren and Bianca up a staircase at the side of the building, down a long, branching corridor and into a reasonably spacious room. There were only two beds, but the presence of a TV, an en-suite bathroom and plenty of books were enough to stave off any complaints.

"This is the life!" said Bianca happily, flopping down on one of the beds.

"Agreed," said Cheren. "I wonder if they have a bidet..."

"I think you're forgetting something," said Blake. "Our mission is to seek out new pokémon and new civilisations, to explore strange new regions, and to go boldly where no-one has gone before. Or at least go where no-one's gone with a pokédex before."

"So?" asked Bianca.

"So we'd better meet our new pokémon," replied Blake. "Purrloin, Patrat, Lillipup, Samantha, I choose all four of you!"

Blake's four pokémon burst out of their poké-balls in a slightly subdued manner, seeing as they were indoors. The three newcomers stared around in amazement, not being used to houses. Samantha had only seen the inside of Professor Juniper's place before, but she definiely wasn't going to show that she was disoriented, so she didn't.

"Oh, golly gosh! Is that an actual, genuine, honest-to-Arceus purrloin?!" cried Bianca. "I love purrloins! They're so purry and loiny!"

"Then why didn't you catch one?" Cheren asked.

"Same reason you didn't. George, Templeton, come on out!" requested Bianca, whose repertoire of pokémon-related phrases knew no bounds. Templeton and another patrat emerged from their poké-balls, almost tearing Bianca's bag open in the process.

"You too, Snivy and Lillipup," said Cheren calmly, aiming his poké-balls at one of the beds. Lillipup and Snivy materialized on the bed, the latter hopping down onto the floor to give Samantha a friendly pat on the back.

"Flying-type pokémon of a feather stick together, I see," commented Cheren.

"Tepig tep tep," said Templeton sagely.

"My name's Blake Stormheart. I'll be your trainer from now on," declared Blake, offering his hand to his three new pokémon. The patrat and lillipup both nudged his hand gently with their noses. The purrloin started licking his paws in a slightly haughty manner.

"Now," said Blake, "the three of you are going to need names. How about... Patrick, Lilly, and... Lyoko?"

Patrick, the patrat, nodded to indicate his acceptance.

"Told you!" Cheren said smugly.

"Pup! Lillipup pup!" agreed the lillipup, now to be known as Lilly.

"Well, that was easy. How about you, purrloin? How does Lyoko sound?" asked Blake.

The purrloin sniffed, looking in completely the opposite direction. Samantha made as if to hit him, only to realise that, even if she didn't want the purrloin to dislike Blake, she wasn't exactly prepared to be his champion and most loyal servant just yet.

"All right, then, Lyoko it is!" declared Blake. Lyoko rolled his eyes contemptuously. Blake gave him a moderately disapproving look.

"He's a bit like Samantha, is he not?" commented Cheren.

Samantha raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, I think he's much more like a certain someone with a cape and a scarf!" chuckled Bianca.

Cheren shot her a furious look, in the hope that she would wilt under the intensity of his gaze and submit to him. Bianca merely grinned. Cheren sighed and turned away.

"Now then, our foremost duty is to study wild pokémon. Now that we are all acquainted with each other's pokémon, we must..."

"Hit the streets?" suggested Blake.

"Buy supplies?" suggested Bianca.

"Oshawott wott?" suggested Samantha.

"All of these in good time," said Cheren. "Come, my eager young assistants, adventure awaits us!"

Neither Blake nor Bianca could take that "assistants" comment lying down.

"Fancy a pizza, Bianca?" asked Blake.

"Why not?" replied Bianca, and they made for the nearest pizzeria. Samantha, Snivy, Templeton, George, Lillipup, Lilly, Lyoko and Patrick followed them, chatting merrily amongst themselves. Cheren was too stunned to move.

* * *

"Honestly, you two are the absolute limit!" complained Cheren, as he, Bianca, Blake and their various pokémon left the pizzeria, feeling full and satisfied. Thanks to the advent of replicator technology, people no longer had to worry about the moral implications of eating meat, so Samantha had been able to gorge herself on a freshly synthesised magikarp. The little oshawott was feeling on top of the world. Bianca had discovered she really loved pineapples, but after eating an enormous mushroom and pineapple calzone all by herself, she was feeling a little under the weather.

"I think I'm gonna die..." groaned Bianca.

"Shut up," said Cheren.

"I've been pineappled to death!" wailed Bianca.

"Shut up," repeated Cheren.

"I love you, Cheren. You won't forget that, will you?" said Bianca softly.

"Of course not. Now, if I can trust the two of you to go for more than five minutes without finding some new distraction, I shall inform you of our mission: study the pokémon we have caught while battling, resting and playing in and out of their natural environments. We will also probably need to locate a pidove, but that can wait a while. Any questions?" asked Cheren.

"Yes. Who died and left you in charge?" asked Blake.

"Me, if I don't get some indigestion tablets soon!" complained Bianca. "Oh, wait a minute..." She reached into her bag, rummaged around for a moment and removed a packet of indigestion medicine.

"There's something to be said for having an overprotective father, I suppose," commented Bianca, as she retrieved a tablet from the packet and swallowed it.

"Better?" asked Cheren.

"Yep," replied Bianca.

"'Yep' is not a word!" snapped Cheren. "Anyway, we'd better... what in the...?!" Cheren, Blake, Bianca and the pokémon drew to a sudden halt. At the base of the steps to the second terrace, where they were, a large crowd had gathered in front of three helicopters. Blake could just make out the sound of an angry, female voice coming from a megaphone on one of the helicopters:

"Greetings, citizens of Accumula Town! We are the Pokémon Liberation And Separatism Movement Agency Foundation, but you may call us the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation for short. Heed our words, and be prepared to change your lives and the lives of all Unovan pokémon forever, or you will face immediate execution!"

Another voice cut in: "What are you talking about?! We're here to talk some sense into people, not kill them!"

"That's N!" gasped Blake.

Cheren gave him a sideways look. "That fellow with green hair? Here, now, in one of those helicopters?"

"All right, all right, keep your hair on... P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation, prepare to disembark peacefully!" ordered the original amplified voice.

"I hope this isn't a sign of bad things to come..." commented Bianca.

"Hold it right there, you P.L.A.S.M.A idiots!" roared Whitney, leaping from out of nowhere to land in front of the three Nuvema Town children. After a moment's fevered arm-whirling to avoid tumbling down the stairs, Whitney waved to Blake and slid off down the middle banister, followed by Durant.

"It is!" groaned Bianca.

"YOU HEAR ME, N?!" shouted Whitney, her voice dwindling as she slid further down, "I WANT THAT MONEY YOU OWE ME, AND I WANT IT NOW!"


	3. Chapter 3

**~Author's Note~**

What paracetamol? No-one's mentioned paracetamol, and nothing even remotely paracetamol-related has ever happened in this story! I mean, why are we even talking about paracetamol at all? Get on with reading the story!

**~Chapter Three: Five Go to Striaton City (After Other Things Happen)~**

A hatch opened in the belly of the largest helicopter, releasing a rope ladder. From their vantage point on the stairs, it was hard for Blake, Cheren or Bianca to make out any details of what was going on, but they could tell that man dressed in a cloak and an unusual diadem with a built-in eyepiece was climbing carefully down. Once he was out of the way, a woman dropped nimbly to the ground beside him, seemingly contemptuous of how painful falling can be. She had well-tanned skin and nondescript hair, and a sword was strapped to her back.

The man removed a tripod from the folds of his cloak, placing it under the helicopter, and the unseen people within lowered down a large megaphone. As this went on, several uniformed people in black, white and grey armour (or possibly raincoats) were climbing down from the other two helicopters and forming into an honour guard around the two people from the central helicopter. Whitney had given up elbowing her way through the crowd, and had instead lifted Durant up so he could get a better view.

"I'm not sure I like what I'm seeing..." whispered Cheren.

"Nor do I, but they're too far away to hear us, so why bother whispering?" Bianca reasoned.

Cheren gave her a look. "Can't you at least try to get into the spirit?"

The woman with the sword stepped up to the newly erected megaphone tripod thingy. She glared at the crowd around her, silently daring them to raise any objection to her might, then spoke.

"Testing, one two, one two... Can you hear me at the back?"

The crowd, by and large, confirmed that they could hear her.

"My name is Melissa, Grand Marshall of the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation, and this is Ghetsis, leader of the Seven Sages. I am here representing the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation. Today, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to talk to you about pokémon liberation," declared the woman.

That got the crowd muttering amongst themselves like never before.

"I'm sure most of you believe that we humans and pokémon are partners that have come to live together because we want and need each other. This is a blatant lie. Pokémon are subject to the selfish commands of trainers. They get pushed around when they are our "partners" at work, given separate drinking fountains, forbidden from public office... Can anyone say with confidence that there is no truth in my words?" continted Melissa.

"Idiot!" shouted a member of the crowd.

"Get her off!" shouted another.

"What was that?" asked Melissa sweetly, unsheathing her sword, which was almost as long as she was. The crowd fell silent.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, pokémon are different from humans. They are living beings that contain unknown potential, living beings with hopes and dreams, living beings from whom we humans have much to learn. Tell me, what is our responsibility toward these wonderful beings called pokémon? We must liberate them! As long as pokémon are subjugated, the world will be devoid of justice. I ask you, in the name of all the pokémon of the world, get rid of pokémon trainers. Destroy the gyms and the so-called pokémon centres! Smash the pokémon league to pieces and make the Elite Four tidy up the rubble with their hands tied behind their backs, while their former slaves drink lemonade on the beach! Then, and only then, will pokémon be free. If any of you here are pokémon trainers, I implore you to reconsider your life. The P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation will rehome your pokémon in the wild, where they belong. Will anyone come forth?" Melissa fell silent, waiting for a response.

The crowd redoubled their hubbub. For a moment it looked as if a few pokémon trainers were going to renounce their vocations, but nobody actually did.

"Nobody?" Melissa's face hardened into a mask of rage. "Then none of you will see your next dawn. P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation, prepare to-"

Ghetsis tapped her on the shoulder and whispered urgently into her ear. Melissa turned back to the crowd, looking calmer, but by no means chastened. "Er... Thank you for your time, people of Accumula Town. I hope you will consider my words, you selfish, cruel, heartless, loathsome, evil... sorry, it's my blood pressure. Um, goodbye."

Melissa stowed her sword in the sheath at her back, retrieved the megaphone and climbed back into the helicopter, looking slightly embarrassed. Ghetsis followed her, mouthing an apology at the crowd as the hatch closed. Once all the P.L.A.S.M.A personell had embarked, the helicopters did a neat about turn and flew off in a southwesterly direction, passing over Blake, Bianca and Cheren as they did so. There was little doubt, however, that they would be back.

* * *

Cheren was utterly bewildered. "What was that all about?" he enquired.

"No idea," replied Blake, "although the phrase "pokémon liberation" is probably key."

"The P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation believes pokémon will have better lives if humans leave them alone, and they were trying to drum up someupport. At least, that's what I took from that," said Bianca.

Cheren stared. "You... you just said something sensible!"

"So what? I say sensible things all the time!" Bianca pointed out.

"Anyway," said Cheren, realising he was losing the initiative, "pokémon liberation and the moral implications thereof. Discuss."

"It's a very good idea. I support the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation with all my heart. You should too, if you have even half the moral fibre I do," said N. Bianca and Blake jumped. Cheren almost fainted.

"N! What...?! I mean, how...?! You were on one of those helicopters!" cried Blake.

"Was I?" asked N innocently.

"I'm pretty sure you were," Blake persisted.

"So you're N, are you?" asked Cheren, rallying magnificently.

"I am," replied N.

"He is," confirmed Blake.

"Pleased to meet you, N! I'm Bianca," declared Bianca, offering N her hand. N ignored it magnificently, turning to gaze dramatically out over the stairs, attracting some curious looks from passers by.

"I am N Harmonia, son of [DATA REDACTED], guardian of all pokémon. I may or may not have been aboard a P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation helicopter, and I may or may not be an ally of the Foundation, but right now, it is safe for you to know that I believe wholeheartedly in their philosophy. All pokémon are my friends, and I will not suffer any ill-treatment towards them. Any questions?" asked N.

"Yes. What sort of a name is Data Redacted?" asked Bianca.

N blinked. "No, that's not my father's name. You don't need to know his name at present, so I redacted it. Any questions that are actually relevant?"

"Do you believe in women's rights?" asked Bianca.

"Um, yes. Any other questions?" asked N.

"Have you ever been to any other regions?" asked Bianca.

"No..." said N, who was beginning to get the feeling Bianca was a couple of gym badges short of an oppressive human supremacist regime.

"Do you like splashing in puddles?" asked Bianca.

N stared at her. "I don't know!"

"You should try it. It's the most fun anyone can have while getting really wet at the same time!" declared Bianca.

"Bianca, shut up," commanded Cheren. "Just shut up, all right? Shut up! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

"Oh, all right..." sighed Bianca, shutting reluctantly up.

"Anyway. N, do you actually think humans and pokémon should be forced to be completely separate?" asked Blake. A plan was forming in his mind, a rather hasty plan which might, nevertheless, reveal some information N would rather keep under wraps.

"Of course not!" replied N. "I simply believe pokémon need to be treated as equals."

"Well, that's not what the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation seems to want," Blake pointed out. "They want complete separation."

"What?!" N thought for a moment. "I think I'll have to have a little chat with Melissa next time we go bowling..."

"Aha! So you ARE in league with the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation!" said Blake triumphantly.

"Er... no comment," replied N.

"But you know Melissa?" Blake persisted.

"No comment," repeated N.

"I've only been a pokémon trainer for about a day, N, but I'm more than a thousand percent certain humans and pokémon benefit from working together. Now, you can go ahead and ramble on about pokémon liberation, but be warned: if you, Melissa, Ghetsis, or any of your pals try anything, Blake, Bianca and Cheren will be there to stop you! Okay?!" shouted Blake. He waited for a moment to see how N would react to his speech, only to discover that N was lying dazed on the ground while Cheren and Bianca tried to pull an angry, metallic, insectoid pokémon off him.

* * *

"I'm sorry, young lady, I don't believe we've had the pleasure," said N, who was slightly nervous of the angry, bushy-haired girl in front of him.

"You know perfectly well we've had the pleasure, N! I'm Whitney Blazeheart, that girl you cheated out of a bet three months ago!" snapped Whitney. "And don't call me "young lady". You're just as young as I am."

"It's not the years, young lady, it's the mileage," muttered N.

"What was that?!" demanded Whitney.

"Nothing! Look, I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. Is there any chance you could stop being angry for a moment and enlighten me?" said N, adopting a reasonable, non-aggravating tone.

"Fine. Three months ago, you made a bet: that Durant would be more happy living in the wild than with me. I turfed Durant out, and a couple of days later, he came crawling back to my door, covered in mud and rust and almost dead! I never felt more ashamed of myself in my life, right up until you refused to give me my money for winning the bet. Then I felt ashamed of you. Now hand it over, feebas-features!" demanded Whitney.

"But... hasn't society advanced to the point where money is no longer necessary?" said N meekly.

"Well, maybe," said Whitney, "in which case I'd like some of your antique coin collection."

"Oh, all right," said N, reaching into his pocket. He retrieved a few ancient Greek drachmae, still shiny and golden despite their many years buried underground, and gave them to Whitney.

Whitney had never had such large, shiny gold coins before, so even a single drachma would have satisfied her. "This is... they're so beautiful! Thank you so much, N! I mean... it's about time, you fathead!" she declared, although her heart wasn't really in it.

Whitney crounched down beside Durant, letting him admire the coins. "We did it, Durant! Vengeance is served!"

"I'll be off, then," said N. When later interviewed about the event, Blake, Cheren, Whitney and Bianca all swore they saw him simply disappear.

Cheren cleared his throat. "You're finished with him, then, young la-"

Whitney rounded on him, silently daring him to finish that sentence.

"Miss? Ma'am? Your Majesty?" offered Cheren, completely failing to be intimidated.

"Just call me Whitney," she sighed.

"What will you do now, Whitney?" asked Blake. He was beginning to feel a connection to this mysterious girl, possibly because her name was so much like his.

"I have no idea. Me, Durant and my other pokémon have been tracking N for so long now, it's become all we ever cared about. Now that I've got all these beautiful coins, our lives have no real purpose any more..." replied Whitney. "What are the three of you doing?"

"We are on a quest of national importance, to categorise every pokémon in all of Unova!" declared Cheren.

"And probably do gym battles as well," Bianca added.

"And keep an eye on the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation. I'd rather not go back on that speech I made to N," Blake add-added. "Much as I'd like to. I mean, we're not exactly the greatest warriors who ever lived..." he add-add-added sourly.

"Really? In that case, I'll come with you," said Whitney.

"I beg your pardon? You can't just waltz up and declare yourself one of our number, young l- Whitney. There is a lengthy application process, and you will need-" began Cheren.

"Then that settles it. Welcome to the team, Whitney!" declared Blake, giving her a friendly pat on the back. Cheren raised his eyes heavenwards.

"Y-you'd really let me come with you? Just to annoy Cheren?!" cried Whitney.

"There's nothing we wouldn't do to annoy Cheren, Whitney. That's how much we care!" replied Bianca, ruffling Cheren's hair. He sighed.

* * *

After deciding their first day as pokémon trainers had been a resounding success (even though absolutely nothing of interest happened after Whitney joined them), Blake, Cheren and Bianca faced the difficult task of making room for Whitney. At night, she rolled around like nothing else, almost pushing Bianca onto the floor, and Cheren's feet were so cold Blake was awake half the night. But such was the joy of being young and free that the following morning, all four felt refreshed and cheerful, and the day's pokédex-filling exploits went as smoothly as ever they would. The pokémon around Accumula Town were fairly common, so many of the townsfolk had interesting facts and anecdotes about them, and by the end of day four, there wasn't even the slightest reason left for them to remain.

"Are we all packed?" Cheren asked, as the four waited at the northern exit from Accumula Town for Cheren to decide they could leave, based on a lengthy and complicated series of criteria which only he knew. The northern exit opened out onto route 2, which led to Striaton City.  
"Probably. I have my knife and my art collection, Bianca's got her survival books, Blake has his wok, camping stove and tea set, I mean really, what kind of idiot travels with a tea set and a wok?!" replied Whitney.

"The three-time winner of the Nuvema Town Juniour Cookery Competition?" Blake offered.

"Well, yes..." Whitney conceded.

"Good. Now, Whitney, you don't have a pokédex. Call me overly pernickety, but I cannot help but think your lack of pokédex makes you less than ideal for our mission," Cheren pointed out.

"I have something better: a book full of beautiful, hand-drawn pokémon pictures and strategical observations gathered over many long years of living semi-wild in this general area, and a few months of hunting N!" said Whitney proudly.

"Oh, I see. Bianca, do we have a packed lunch?" asked Cheren.

"We do," replied Bianca. "We've got cheese sandwiches, mushroom sandwiches and cheesy mushroom sandwiches, followed by some apples and crisps."

"What, no lashings of ginger beer?" asked Blake, possibly as a joke.

Bianca gasped. "Ginger beer?! You can't be serious! We're too young!"

"Not that kind of beer," Blake pointed out.

"We're too young for any kind of beer!" Bianca insisted.

"What about lemonade, then?" suggested Blake.

"Sure, why not?" said Bianca.

"That's settled, then! Now, does everybody have pokéballs?" asked Blake, who learned from his mistakes.

"Naturally," replied Cheren.

"Of course!" said Bianca.

"Um... Wait here, will you?" asked Whitney, and she rushed off to the nearest pokémon trainer supplies shop.

"I'm back!" Whitney declared a few minutes later, her arms laden with pokéballs, spray-on healing potions and status healers.

Blake stared at her. "How many poké-balls is that?!"

"About four," replied Whitney.

"All that stuff must've cost a fortune!" commented Bianca.

"It was very reasonable, actually. Just one drachma!" said Whitnet breezily.

"If I may," said Cheren, in a manner which suggested he didn't really care whether or not he may, "people are begining to stare at us. We should probably go before the police start asking us questions."

"All right, then. Lead on, o glorious leader. We will follow you into the very jaws of the Distortion Realm,"said Blake sarcastically.

* * *

Cheren was not planning to lead them into the jaws of the Distortion Realm just yet, but the wild pokémon on route 2 were much rowdier than on route 1, so before long his cape was in tatters.

"I mean, really! That was a genuine imitation faux-leather Johtoian all-weather cape, worn by some of the most stylish people in history, and now look at it!" ranted Cheren.

"You should try coating it in plastic," suggested Bianca.

"That's a brilliant idea, Bianca, with just one minor drawback: there isn't really enough left of my cape to coat," Cheren pointed out.

"Oh," said Bianca. Then her eyes brightened. "Hey, look, it's another purrloin! I'm going to catch it! Don't try and stop me, anyone!"

"No-one's going to try and stop you, Bianca," Blake pointed out.

"Except possibly the purrloin," Whitney added.

"That's good to know," said Bianca. "Templeton, on stage!"

Templeton emerged from his poké-ball with a flash of light, looking as calm and serene as always. "Tep?" he asked.

"Hey, purrloin! Do you mind if me and Templeton capture you?" asked Bianca.

"Purrloin purr loin purr..." said the purrloin snidely, indicating that while Bianca was welcome to try to capture her, success would be unlikely.

"Use flamethrower!" commanded Bianca. Templeton tilted his head to one side.

"Oh, you don't know how... All right, then, use fire spin!" ordered Bianca. Templeton sighed.

"Overheat? Blast burn? Fire blast? Incinerate? Sacred fire? Ember?" said Bianca hopefully.

"Tep!" said Templeton happily, and he sent an ember screaming towards the purrloin.

"Loiiiin!" wailed the purrloin, as the ember singed her dark purple fur. She rushed at Templeton, slamming into his side and knocking the wind out of him. Templeton, by no means defeated, tackled the purrloin as hard as he could, which knocked her out.

"Thank you, Templeton," said Bianca, withdrawing a pokéball from her bag. "Purrloin, you've just been purloined! Well, not exactly purloined, more sort of... drafted? Um..."

"Just throw the poké-ball," suggested Whitney.

"All right," said Bianca, tossing the poké-ball at the purrloin. She was sucked inside, and the poké-ball closed with a decisive click.

"Yippee!" squealed Bianca. "I've got a purrloin! I've got a purrloin! I've got a purrloin! I'm so happy to have my own beautiful little purrloin! Oh, happy day!" Bianca jumped for joy, watched curiously by Templeton.

"Assuming, of course, that the purrloin decides of her own free will to stay with you," Cheren pointed out.

"Let her have her moment, Cheren," said Blake warningly.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I happen to view pokémon as more than collector's items!" said Cheren self-righteously. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to capture a pidove for our research. Blake, you'd better see if you can find-"

"An audino!" declared Blake. "I've heard some of them can be found around here, so that's what I'll be looking for."

Cheren glared at him. "What I was going to say was-"

"There's one!" cried Whitney, tapping Blake on the shoulder and pointing to an audino, who was busy sunning himself in a briar patch.

"Thank you," said Blake, making his way to the audino.

"You most certainly are not welcome!" shouted Cheren, who was beginning to lose it.

"Yes he is!" protested Bianca.

* * *

Blake cleared his throat to attract the audino's attention, readying two poké-balls: one empty, and one with Samantha in it.

"Audi? Audino!" said the audino brightly. He rushed over and gave Blake a hug, almost squashing the wind out of him. Blake's eyes widened. He'd never met this particular audino before, so why would it be so friendly?

"Audino? Audi no no audi audino?" asked the audino, gesturing to the poké-balls Blake was holding. He released Samantha, who was promptly cuddled.

"Osha?! Oshawott wott!" Samantha protested, before realising the audino couldn't possibly mean her any harm, whereupon she cuddled him as high as her knee-high oshawott body could reach. Blake couldn't help but smile.

"Audino, do you mind coming with me? You know, in a poké-ball?" asked Blake.

"Audino," replied the audino, and he nudged Blake's proffered poké-ball with his snout. The ball sucked him inside in short order.

"Nice work, Samantha! You took that cuddle like a true warrior!" Blake joked. "Do you know any good names for an audino? How about Darkblade?" asked Blake.

"Wott?!" cried Samantha.

"Unless you prefer something like Cuddles or Fluffykins..." said Blake.

"Osha!" wailed Samantha, sticking her tongue out in disgust.

"Darkblade it is, then!" declared Blake. Samantha said nothing, merely remote-activating her poké-ball to get out of the conversation.

* * *

Their forces swollen like never before, Blake, Whitney, Bianca and Cheren made their way to Striaton City. Route 2 was not the longest of routes, but the walk took two hours, by which time nobody would have objected to a bath and a hot cup of tea.

"Cheren's log, Monday the thirteenth of April: After many long hours of walking, we have arrived at last at the gates of Striaton City, home to the powerful triplet gym leaders Cilan, Chili and Cress, and their slightly out-of-place sister and occasional partner, Chloe. To the west of this city is Pinwheel Forest, home to a wide variety of pokémon, all of which we must study in depth. My party are weary and footsore, but we must press on for-"

"Cheren, what are you drivelling on about?" asked Blake.

"Nothing!" said Cheren, momentarily flustered.

"We wouldn't happen to be making an imaginary diary of our adventures, would we?" asked Bianca sweetly.

"No! All I am doing, my dear friends, is, um, well, all things considered... uh... Look! There's Professor Juniper!" cried Cheren, relief flooding across his face.

"Who?" asked Whitney.

"Unova's preeminent pokémon researcher," replied Cheren. "It is for her that our noble crusade takes place. Greetings and well met, Professor Juniper! We have many tales of our journey, and plenty of new findings regarding the countless fantasmagorical pokémon of our fair region!"

"I know," Professor Juniper pointed out as she made her way over to the four. "Me, Fennel and Amanita have been working on the pokédex servers all day."

"Oh," said Cheren.

"And who is this?" asked Professor Juniper, gesturing to Whitney.

"I'm Whitney Blazeheart, and this is my partner Durant," Whitney informed her. "I am an artist, poet, writer, pokémon trainer, strategist, explorer, complete hoyden and free spirit." She shook Professor Juniper's hand.

"Delighted to meet you, Whitney! Now, if I may ask, why are you with these three fine young researchers?" asked Professor Juniper.

"Fine young researchers? What are we, six-year-olds?" muttered Cheren.

"It's fairly complicated, Professor, but suffice it to say, she didn't have any purpose in life until we invited her along," said Blake.

"Invited?!" cried Cheren.

"Do shut up, Cheren, there's a good chap," said Bianca, in a perfect impersonation of Cheren's most pompous voice.

"Well, it's good to see you're rubbing along together as nicely as always! Now, why don't the four of you-"

"Five," Whitney interrupted. "Me, Durant, Blake, Cheren and Bianca."

Professor Juniper blinked. "Very well. Why don't the five of you come and have a spot of tea, possibly involving biscuits as well? I have much to discuss with you."

"I'd love to!" said Bianca cheerily.

"Yes, please," said Blake.

"Why not?" said Whitney.

"But of course. A true gentleman leaves no cup of tea unconsumed," said Cheren sagely.

* * *

Professor Juniper led them to a rather messy flat with a view of the wide plaza in front of Striaton City's pokémon centre, school and finest restaurant. Blake and Bianca stared in amazement at the large computer banks dotted around the living room and kitchen, while Cheren and Whitney tried to look as if this was all perfectly normal. The promised tea and biscuits were nowhere to be seen, but the two women waiting beside the coffee table were interesting enough on their own.

"Fennel, Amanita, these are the children I told you about, plus one other and a durant who seem to have come out of nowhere. Cheren, Blake, Bianca, Whitney, Durant, these are my colleagues, Fennel and Amanita," declared Professor Juniper. Amanita was a tall, broad person wearing a very high-waisted pair of trousers and a polo shirt, while Fennel wore a lab coat even more impractically fashionable than Professor Juniper's.

"Put it there, whoever-you-are!" said Amanita loudly, giving Cheren a vigorous hand-shake.

"Unk! D-delighted to meet you, madam, and may I say what a delight it is to meet one with such an outgoing manner as yourself!" said Cheren, surreptitiously checking to see if his hand still worked.

"Um, hello," said Fennel shyly, somehow managing to hide behind her glasses and an incandescent blush.

"By Jove, it does my heart a power of good to see people like you! Hardly any children nowadays care about science at all. They think scientists are all awkward, unconfident people with oversized nerd glasses and spots! I mean, really!" laughed Amanita. Fennel looked about ready to burst into tears.

"Anyway, how are those pokédexes coming along?" asked Professor Juniper.

"Quite well," replied Blake.

"Indeed," agreed Cheren, "and Whitney has a collection of art and hand-written observations somewhere about her person, although it's hard to tell where, what with modern bag technology and suchlike."

"Well, be sure to keep up the good work. While we're on the subject, are you planning on challenging this city's pokémon gym?" asked Professor Juniper.

"Naturally," replied Cheren.

"I've already done it, actually," said Whitney, looking just a little bit smug.

"Jolly good! You should probably make sure all your pokémon have some experience of battling, though. I'd recommend you practice in the Dreamyard, over to the east of this city," suggested Professor Juniper.

"See if you can pick up some dream mist for us while you're at it," Amanita requested.

"Dream mist?" repeated Bianca.

"It's, um, produced by the pokémon who live in the Dreamyard," said Fennel.

"Then that's settled!" said Cheren loudly, rising dramatically to his feet. "We'll help these fair blooms, or my name's not Cheren McTavish! Onwards, to the Dreamyard!"

"To the pokémon centre, then a nice park bench to eat our packed lunch, then possibly Dreamyard if we feel like it!" shouted Bianca.

"Yeah!" agreed Whitney.

"To the pokémon centre!" agreed Blake.

"Why do I bother?..." sighed Cheren.


	4. Chapter 4

**~Chapter Four: A Triple Gym Battle Followed by a Serving of Action and Intrigue~**

"Cheren, we don't actually know what dream mist looks like, do we?" Blake pointed out.

Cheren paused mid-stride. "Good point, but we've lost more than enough time already, thanks mostly to Bianca."

"What?! All I did was eat five apples!" protested Bianca. "In any case, I think I'm beginning to develop an immunity to tummy aches."

"The vast majority of those apples were meant for us," Cheren pointed out. "We'll just have to see if we can spot some dream mist on the hop. Professor Juniper and her compatriots are relying on us, so we must... oh, good grief."

"What? What is it?!" demanded Blake, Bianca and Whitney.

"See for yourself," sighed Cheren, gesturing to a tall, wide, spiky tree growing right in the middle of the path into the Dreamyard. Old, run-down buildings claimed by vines and moss could be seen beyond, but a sign hung from the tree, bearing the message "Dreamyard closed by order of the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation. Trespassers will be set upon by our pokémon and shown no mercy."

"That's outrageous!" declared Blake.

"I know! Who are they to tell us where we can and can't go?!" demanded Whitney.

"No, I mean, the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation believe in pokémon liberation, so why would they have pokémon to fight off trespassers?" Blake reasoned.

"That's a good question. Either the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation are immensely hypocritical, or the aforementioned pokémon are fully-fledged P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation agents with all the priveliges thereof," said Cheren. "Personally, I think they're hypocrites."

Blake considered this. Melissa had seemed fervently anti-pokémon training, and Ghetsis seemed like a fairly nice fellow, and as for N, the very word "trainer" disgusted him. On the other hand, fanatical types like them could justify almost anything.

"Anyway, we can't simply wait here all day. We'll face the Striaton Gym, then deal with the dream mist as and when we can," suggested Cheren.

"Good idea," agreed Bianca.

* * *

"Striaton City Restaurant and Pokémon Gym - A Triple Serving of Combat or Cuisine," read Cheren, gazing up at the luxurious doorway of the gym, above which hung a large sign embossed with gold letters. "This is definitely the right place."

As the group made their way through the door, Blake felt a rising sense of trepidation. They hadn't had the opportunity to train at the Dreamyard yet, so what if all his pokémon weren't up to the challenge of facing a gym leader? What if he wasn't? What if Cheren and Bianca weren't either?! Blake took a deep breath, reminding himself how pointless it was to get too wrapped up in fear to actually do anything. Gym battles were a learning opportunity as well as a way of proving oneself.

The gym/restaurant's entryway opened out into a wide, spacious room full of elegant tables, at which sat a wide variety of people and pokémon, eating an even wider variety of food. At the back of the room was a very wide pair of curtains, dyed in a swirl of green, blue and red.

"Cilan, Chili and Cress specialise in grass, fire and water-type pokémon, and you can challenge them behind the curtain," said Whitney quietly. "They also have a sister who specialises in electric-type pokémon, but she doesn't come here very often."

"That's very interesting. Do come along," said Cheren, leading the way around the tables and assorted gourmands to the curtain, attracting a few odd looks from the newer patrons. "I know about the gym leaders' sister, by the way. She's called Chloe. Now..." Cheren surveyed the curtain. "Do you know what we do now, Whitney?"

"Ring the bell?" suggested Blake, pointing to a stylish silver bell hanging from the roof. He could just about reach the bell-pull, but Whitney stayed his hand.

"No, you go through the curtain and, if no-one's there, ring the bell on the other side," she said. "I know it's a rather counterintuitive way of doing things, but there you are..."

Whitney drew back a bit of the curtain, revealing a sleek, modern-looking kitchen. Three young men were busy preparing some food, one with spiky red hair, one with short green hair, and one with well-combed blue hair.

The man with green hair looked up from the steak (replicated, of course) he was preparing. "Can the four of you wait a moment? We're a little busy, and- oh, it's you, Whitney! Can you and your friends wait a moment?"

"Of course, Cilan. We've got plenty of time," replied Whitney. "That was Cilan, the grass-type specialist," she explained to her less experienced chums. "The other two are Chili and Cress, the fire and water-type specialists."

"I see," said Cheren.

"Three of them, and three of us who haven't been to this gym before. That makes one each!" declared Blake, trying to seem confident.  
"WHAT?!" cried the redheaded gym leader, Chili. "ONE EACH?! Do you realise how concieted that makes you seem?! I ought'ta throw you out with a burnt bottom for that!"

"S-sorry!" said Blake, somewhat taken aback.

"And so you should be, you ugly little twerp! My brothers and I are the best of the bunch, and don't get me started on Chloe! You don't stand a chance, you buncha' filthy little-"

"That's enough, Chili," said Cilan calmly.

Chili rounded on him. "HOW DARE YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO?! We're equal partners, you grumpig-headed little plonker! Besides, I'm the fire-type gym leader around here, so I have a type advantage over your pathetic little excuses for pokémon!"

Then kindly explain to our guests how I managed to defeat you every single time you challenged me," said Cilan.

Chili turned red. "Y-you promised not to tell anyone!"

"As I recall, you promised not to shout at our guests unless we all agreed they deserved it," Cilan pointed out. Chili scowled. Blake, Bianca and Cheren looked on in amazement.

"I'm sorry about that," Cress piped up. "Now, I take it the three of you children who aren't Whitney have come to challenge us?"

"Correct," Cheren confirmed.

"That's right!" Bianca confirmed.

"We have," Blake confirmed.

"Then by Ho-oh, we'll blast you to blazes!" declared Chili.

"After we've given our customers their meals," Cilan pointed out, picking up a plate of sirloin steak marinated in olive wine, garnished with okra and mange tout, and with plenty of chips. "Actually, I don't suppose the four of you fancy helping out?"

"After what Chili said to us?" sniffed Cheren. "I'd rather eat a-"

"We'd be glad to!" declared Bianca.

"But..." said Cheren.

"I'm sure waiting on tables can't be that hard. I mean, they don't expact us to do it all day..." Blake reasoned.

* * *

"Just once, Bianca? Can you not, just once, let me finish what I'm saying when I'm saying something important?" pleaded Cheren, several hours later, as the four of them made their way back to the kitchen.

"I just did," Bianca pointed out.

"Other than that, I mean!" said Cheren.

"I could try," offered Bianca.

Cilan, Chili and Cress were waiting for them in the kitchen. After a long day of serving meals, they knew their challengers would be feeling rather exploited, so they had thrown in a voucher for a free meal.

"You're ready for your gym battles, I take it?" asked Cress.

"That's right," confirmed Cheren, restraining himself from making a comment about how long a wait they'd had.

"In that case, we shall have a triple battle. That means Blake, Cheren and Bianca battle me, Chili and Cress at the same time," declared Cilan.  
Blake looked at Cheren. "I've never heard of this triple battle business before..."

"Nor I," replied Cheren. "It's probably quite a new invention."

"Come," said Cilan, "the arena is this way."

He led them through a nondescript door beside the oven, through a long corridor and out into a wide, fenced-off area behind the building. Tall, bushy trees and shrubs surrounded the arena, giving the impression of a lush garden, but there was no disguising the fact that a lot of pokémon battles had taken place.

"Challengers, take your places at the far end of the battlefield," commanded Cilan. "Me and my brothers await your performance with great interest. Whitney, you can wait on that bench over there."

"Are you two ready?" asked Cheren, as he, Blake and Bianca took their places.

"Yep," replied Bianca.

"I think so," replied Blake.

"Each competitor will use one pokémon, so make sure you have a strong connection with it! Ready your poké-balls!" shouted Cilan.

Blake reached for Samantha's poké-ball, noticing Cheren and Bianca choosing their own pokémon. The colour-coded triplets each took a poké-ball from the folds of their waiter's uniforms and threw them into the centre of the battlefield.

"Pansear, hit the floor! Get ready to unleash the invincible power of fire!" shouted Chili, as a small, red, monkey-like pokémon with a cream-coloured face and paws emerged from his poké-ball.

"You'll show them what for, won't you, Panpour?" asked Cress, as a similar blue monkey pokémon emerged from her ball.

"Pansage, I choose you!" declared Cilan, as a green monkey-shaped pokémon emerged from his poké-ball.

"Samantha, give them a taste of your... oshawottiness!" shouted Blake, throwing Samantha's poké-ball onto the field. The oshawott posed dramatically in the ball's afterglow, knowing in her heart that this was what she was born to do.

"Oshawottiness? Really?" whispered Cheren. "Ahem. Snivy, I choose you!" Snivy emerged, looking thrilled at the prospect of beating up some enemies.

"Bianca calls... Templeton!" declared Bianca, spinning dramatically on her leg before releasing Templeton. The tepig looked around curiously for a moment, then settled down for a nap. Bianca gave a deep, heartfelt sigh.

"Samantha, use water gun!" commanded Blake. Samantha's eyes darted between the three monkey pokémon as she tried to work out which one to attack, then a long, tubular vine smacked into her head, knocking her onto the ground. Cilan's pansage readied his claws to finish Samantha off, and it suddenly occured to Blake that perhaps giving up on the Dreamyard so soon wasn't a very good idea. He was dimly aware of Snivy fighting expertly against Cress's panpour while Templeton and the pansear spewed flames across the battlefield, but he needed to pull his weight as well, or pull Samantha's, or get Samantha to pull his weight. The pansage had a type advantage over her, so...

"Get up and tackle him!" Blake ordered. Narrowly avoiding a flurry of fury swipes, Samantha leapt to her feet, and barreled into the pansage. Then she pulled the cream-coloured shell off her belly, parrying an incoming vine whip with expert timing.

Blake's eyes widened, then he grinned triumphantly. "That's the way to do it! Show that leaf-monkey who's boss!"

"Oshawott wott osha osha!" agreed Samantha.

"Pansage, tie her up!" ordered Cilan. His pansage sent forth his vines once more, wrapping around Samantha's limbs and leaving her trussed up like a doduo.

"Osha! Oshawott oshawott!" protested Samantha.

"Pansage, pansage pan!" retorted the pansage, tightening his vines.

Blake turned pale. "Hang in there, Samantha! It's just a few painfully tight vines!" One more grass-type attack would probably finish Samantha off, and there was little she or he could do about it. On the other hand, this battle wasn't just about Samantha...

"SInce you're there, use water gun on the pansear!" ordered Blake. Samantha looked at him like he was completely bananas, then noticed the pansear chasing Snivy across her field of vision, and before the pansage could do anything, she fired off a spout of finest quality water.

"Seeeear!" the pansear wailed, as Samantha's water gun threw her over to the far side of the arena, where she crashed into the wall and promptly fainted.

Chili stared in horror at his vanquished pokémon. "Pansear! I mean, how...?! You cheated! You must have!" he declared, pointing an accusing finger at Blake.

Blake ignored him. "Well done, Samantha! Now, um..." Samantha was barely conscious thanks to the pansage's vines, so carrying on the fight was probably out of the question. "You might as well lie back and think about something you like.

"Osha oshawott..." said Samantha, giving Blake a heavy look.

"Finish her off, Pansage!" commanded Cilan, and with a look of triumph, his pansage squeezed Samantha like a tube of toothpaste. She fainted, eliciting a pang of guilt in Blake. The pansage danced in triumph, only to be summarily knocked out by an ember from Templeton.  
The three elemental monkey pokémon had fainted, so Blake, Bianca and Cheren were the winners. Relief and elation flooded over Blake as the knowledge began to sink in: he had won his first gym badge, and so had Cheren and Bianca.

"Hooray! We did it!" rejoiced Bianca, voicing Blake's innermost thoughts. "Me and Templeton: totally wicked crusaders of awesomeness! That's pretty much what we are. And George and Purrloin, of course. Mustn't forget them."

"That was a piece of cake," said Cheren, with a grin.

"WHAAAAT?!" cried Chili.

"Snivy sni!" agreed Snivy, running over to Cheren, who gave her a smile as he withdrew her.

"Are you all right, Samantha?" asked Blake worriedly, as he retrieved his oshawott. Being unconscious, she couldn't reply, but Blake got the impression she appreciated his concern.

Cilan cleared his throat. "Congratulations, challengers. It is not often all three of us are defeated in the same day, and this is the first time it happened all at once! Cress will present you with your badges in a moment, but first, I have a few words of advice for you."

"Why's it always him who gets to do this?" muttered Chili. "I mean, I'm a perfectly good orator, I've got a loud, carrying voice, I've got lots of things to say..."

"Shut up, Chili!" said Cress.

"You, in the glasses, hat and rather tatty cape, your style of battling is methodical and highly strategic. This wouldn't necessarily be best for your snivy, and yet you seem to have adapted yourself to her quite well. Keep up the good work," said Cilan.

"I'm glad we're in agreement," said Cheren.

"You, the girl with the blonde hair, you seem to lack experience, but you make up for that with enthusiasm. You'll have to work on your tepig's sleepiness, though. I recommend you read up on pokémon and get plenty of practice," Cilan continued.

"Thank you, sir," said Bianca politely. She would have to start reading her father's books at some point, she knew, but there were only so many hours in the day...

"And you, in the hat so remeniscent of a surprisingly famous boy from Pallet Town, the main criticism I have is that you tend to freeze up in mid-battle. Your oshawott is used to a fast and furious style of battling, so unless you begin to think fast, you may find it hard to form a deep and lasting connection with her. However, you definitely have talent and enthusiasm, so I believe you will be able to make something of yourself," Cilan finished.

"I... I see. Thank you," said Blake. Freeze up? Him? Well, Cilan probably had a point, but how did he know about this from just one battle?

"And now," said Cress, "here are your badges. The badge of Striaton Gym is known as the trio badge, after the triumvirate of gym leaders who you can challenge in order to obtain one. With this badge, young and inexperienced pokémon will be impressed enough to follow you without question, but you should probably not push your luck."

Cress held out three badges, composed of a red jewel, a green jewel and a blue jewel surrounded by gold. (It was probably just plastic, but it looked nice.) Bianca, Blake and Cheren each took one, attaching it to their person with reverent care. Well, Cheren did; Bianca managed to cut herself with the pointy bit, and Blake, who wasn't used to badges, had to be helped by Whitney.

* * *

"You three are simply unbelievable!" declared Whitney, as she, Blake, Cheren and Bianca left the gym. "I mean, most pokémon trainers have to practice for days before a gym battle, and you won just like that..."

"All thanks to my magnificent leadership, no doubt," said Cheren. Blake couldn't tell if he was being serious, but the look Whitney gave him suggested she believed he was.

"Do you think the Dreamyard's open to the public again?" asked Bianca.

"Could be," replied Blake.

"We had better visit it again in any case. Professor Juniper and her polar opposite colleagues are relying on us for dream mist, and who knows? There might be some unusual pokémon there," said Cheren.

The four companions made their way to the Dreamyard, where, to their chagrin, the spiky tree was still in place. Also there were Fennel, Amanita and Professor Juniper, looking extremely annoyed.

"Ah, gentlemen! I see you've-" began Cheren.

"What?!" cried Amanita.

Cheren blinked. "Ah, ladies! I see you've discovered the impasse preventing us from delivering you your dream mist. Please rest assured that I have my team working on it as we speak."

Whitney gave Cheren a look, as did Blake.

"If you have any ideas for getting past the tree, we'll gladly hear them. I don't really trust the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation," said Professor Juniper.  
"Er, well..." began Cheren.

"Climb over it?" suggested Bianca.

"With those spikes?!" said Amanita incredulously.

"Go past it via all those other, non-spiky trees either side of the path?" proposed Whitney. The path was lined by tall, dense trees, but it would be easy enough to get under them without even having to go near the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation's barrier tree.

Professor Juniper, Fennel and Amanita stared at Whitney, then burst into peals of laughter.

"Hahahahahahaha! Oh, that's a good one! Go... go off the path? Through the trees?! That's patently ridiculous!" was the general consensus.

"But... why not?" Whitney insisted.

"It is not the done thing, Whitney," Cheren informed her. "A civilised person doesn't go through the trees unless lives are in danger."

"Me and Durant've been doing it for years!" Whitney pointed out.

"Really?!" cried Blake, scarcely believing his ears.

"I know for a fact it isn't against the law, so why shouldn't we simply take the easy, practical way of bypassing the barrier bush?" demanded Whitney.

"Because it's... I'm not doing it!" Professor Juniper declared, looking disgusted by the very prospect.

"If any of you idiot children want to go crawling about in the undergrowth, be my guest, but leave me out of-" began Amanita.

"TAKE THIS, YOU FILTHY POKÉMON! I WANT THAT DREAM MIST, AND I WANT IT NOW!" shouted a loud, angry voice, coming from inside the Dreamyard. There was a pregnant pause, punctuated by wails of fear and pain.

"...On second thoughts, the only way society can be advanced is by pushing back boundaries and trying new things. Come on!" cried Professor Juniper, setting off through the trees.

"What do we do now, Aurea?" asked Amanita. "Attack, right? Catch the buggers with their trousers down!"

"Um... obviously we look for whoever's doing unspeakable things to a defenceless pokémon," replied Professor Juniper, wincing at the mention of her ridiculous first name. "Bianca, Cheren, Blake, Whitney, no-one's obliging you to come with us. Whatever happens within this Dreamyard may be both dangerous and disturbing, so you and your pokémon could be in danger. Do you understand?"

"Of course we're staying! An innocent pokémon is being caused untold suffering as we speak, and as pokémon trainers, it is our duty to do whatever we can to defend it," Cheren replied.

"I never doubted you for a second!" said Professor Juniper gladly. "Now, we just need to find-"

A round, pink pokémon with four very small limbs floated past, wailing in terror. Three people in P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation uniforms rushed out after it, brandishing a variety of long, heavy sticks.

"Get back here, you miserable excuse for a pokémon! We need dream mist for the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation's top-secret and highly immoral scientific experiments, and you're going to give it to us whether you like it or not!" shouted one of the group, a man with red hair.

Bianca gasped in horror. "Did you hear that?!"

"Yes," replied Cheren. "I daresay everyone in the Dreamyard heard it, in fact."

The three P.L.A.S.M.A agents skidded to a halt. "No! You didn't hear that, all right?! No-one heard that!" shouted the red-haired man.

"What in the name of Arceus do you think you're doing, beating up an innocent munna to get dream mist?!" demanded Professor Juniper. "I mean, it's one thing just to ask nicely, but what you're doing is quite another!"

"Er..." said the red-haired man nervously.

"Who sent you to do this?!" demanded Whitney. "Was it Melissa or N? If so, I doubt they're going to be best pleased..."

"Absolutely not!" replied the red-haired man. "We are under orders from none other than-"

"Don't tell them, you dummy!" snapped one of the other P.L.A.S.M.A agents, a woman who had customised her armour/raincoat to include extra pockets for useful things.

"Oh, right, sorry," said the red-haired man. "Anyway, who are you lot to tell us what we can do?!"

"I'm Professor Juniper, this is Amanita, and these are Cheren, Blake, Bianca and Whitney," replied Professor Juniper. "As for what right we have to impede you, I shan't dignify that with a response." She reached into her pocket, retrieving a poké-ball. "Minccino, I choose you! Show these three the meaning of righteousness!"

With a flash of light, a small, grey pokémon with large ears and a cute little nose emerged from the poké-ball. With a cry of "Ccino! Minccino ccino mincci!", he sized up the three P.L.A.S.M.A agents, each well-built and over six feet tall and holding a big stick. He turned pale.

"Need a wingwoman, Minccino?" offered Amanita, stepping forwards. She cracked her knuckles in a very meaningful way.

"There are still more of us than you!" snapped the redheaded P.L.A.S.M.A agent.

"Not for long," declared Whitney, taking position beside the two scientists. Durant gave Minccino an encouraging look, prompting the little grey pokémon to hide behind him.

"Ah, a fair fight, only we've all got big sticks!" said the redheaded agent happily.

"Guess again, my good sir," said Cheren calmly. He tossed his lillipup's poké-ball out onto the ground, releasing the small, brown puppy-like pokémon. "Pup! Pup lilli lillipup!" she said enthustastically.

"Can't we just shut up and start clobbering each other?!" demanded the P.L.A.S.M.A agent with plenty of pockets.

"Suit yourself," said Amanita.

With a simultaneous cry of "PLASMA!", the three P.L.A.S.M.A agents rushed at their enemies. Professor Juniper and Amanita stepped nonchalantly aside, allowing Durant, Lillipup, Minccino and Whitney to assail their enemies. Blake stared on in amazement, wishing more than ever before that he'd kept going with his fencing and martial arts lessons as Cheren stepped into the fray, scoring several glancing blown with his staff and one vicious finishing strike.

"Owww! P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation, prepare to- aaaaaargh!" wailed the red-haired man.

"That's the spirit, Durant! Bite his bum!" said Whitney enthusiastically.

"RUN!" shouted the woman with plenty of pockets.

With speed and skill born of a two-week training course in the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation's secret base, the three agents made a run for it. They had not got far when a pink light enveloped them and they floated helplessly into the air.

"What the gibbing flump?!" cried Bianca, staring on in amazement as the P.L.A.S.M.A agents flailed about with little effect.

"That's a powerful psychic attack," said Professor Juniper. "But that munna wouldn't've been powerful enough..."

"Maybe it's a more powerful munna," suggested Blake.

As if on cue, a large pokémon floated into view. It was round and pink, much like the munna, but with a purple dorsal section and a longer nose and paws. Pink mist flowed out of its head, swirling around in midair before evaporating.

"It's a musharna!" said Professor Juniper, seemingly in awe.

"It must've come to avenge that munna," reasoned Bianca.

"We'd better make a record of this," declared Cheren, getting out his pokédex.

With a look of intense concentration, the musharna slammed the P.L.A.S.M.A agents together several times, then dropped them unceramoniously to the ground. "Sharna!" she said triumphantly, before heading off to look for the munna.

"That's quite a pokémon," commented Blake.

"I know, and can you believe there isn't anything about it in the pokédex?!" cried Cheren, busily typing in a vivid description of a musharna's psychic powers.

"Are you ready to surrender, then?" asked Amanita, making her way over to the hapless P.L.A.S.M.A operatives.

"Never!" shouted the red-haired man, leaping to his feet.

"I very much think you should put some thought into your situation, young fellow-me-lad," said Amanita, snatching the bludgeon from his hand and snapping it in half.

The red-haired agent stared at the two halves of his weapon, then at Amanita, then at his feet. "Fine, we give in..." he mumbled.

"We'd better get you to the police station, then," said Amanita matter-of-factly. "Come on, Aurea, Minccino and whoever wants to watch!" So saying, she frogmarched the three P.L.A.S.M.A agents back out of the Dreamyard, followed by Professor Juniper, Whitney, Cheren, Bianca and the pokémon. Blake was about to follow when, in the corner of his eye, he noticed a fluffy pink substance on the ground where the musharna had been.

"Is that...?" Blake muttered, kneeling beside the pink stuff. It felt suspiciously like candyfloss, but not nearly as sticky. Was this dream mist? Blake wasn't sure, but as he ran after his friends, mentor and aquaintance, he was sure he saw the musharna waving at him...


	5. Chapter 5

**~Chapter Five: Route 3, Etcetera~**

"Cheren's log, Thursday the 16th of April: We have discovered a great deal of information about the munnas and musharnas inhabiting the Dreamyard, and I have finally managed to capture a pidove, who has been the subject of a great deal of research. Bianca has captured a munna, whom she has insisted on naming Claribelle, while Blake and Whitney's teams of pokémon remain static. On the subject of Whitney, her pokémon remain a mystery even now. I know only of Durant."

"Cheren, you're going to have to keep an eye on that. Making imaginary diaries of your adventures is never a good sign, mental health-wise" said Blake, leaning casually on the wall.

Cheren stiffened, then stood on his dignity. "I would not expect you to understand, Blake; my intellect is such that anything I say to myself is forever recorded, so my logs will remain safe until such time as I can write them down," said Cheren.

"Okay, then. What was your log entry from Monday?" asked Blake.

"Um..." said Cheren.

"Are you two ready?" called Whitney, from afar.

"Of course we are! You can blame Blake for sidetracking us," said Cheren loudly, making his way out of the alley before Blake could protest. When Blake caught up with him, it was to see Whitney carefully polishing Durant while Bianca listened intently to her cross-transceiver.

"...I see," said Bianca. "Okay. We'll be sure to check it out. Bye!" Bianca deposited the cross-transceiver in her bag, then turned to Blake and Cheren (Whitney was below eye level). "That was my father. He says there's a shop in Nacrene City that sells indestructible helmets disguised as stylish hats, and he'll write me out of his will if I don't get one."

"Ah, jolly good," said Cheren. "Now, today we depart ere dawn for Nacrene City, far to the west of Striaton. There is a pokémon gym there which doubles as a library and museum, courtesy of the gym leader's love for archaeology and reading, although the museum part is mostly run by her husband. To reach Nacrene City, we shall take route 3, accesible via-"

"Cheren, we know all this!" snapped Whitney, having long since finished polishing Durant.

Cheren blinked. "Well, quite. I merely thought a brief reminder would keep our minds in gear during the long and dangerous journey ahead."

"He's always doing this," Blake whispered to Whitney, as they made their way to the gardens west of Striaton City. "Cheren knows lots of stuff, and he thinks everyone needs to hear it. Me and Bianca used to spend hours trying to find anything he didn't know."

"But we love him anyway!" Bianca butted in.

"I'm very glad to hear that, Bianca," said Cheren. "By the way, be on the look out for a pokémon species known as blitzle. They're just under a metre tall with black fur, white stripes and a mane shaped like a bolt of lightning. Whitney, I don't suppose you have a picture of one?"

"I did," replied Whitney, "but the blitzle got a bit agitated and zapped it. He ruined my pogo stick, too..."

"Well, these things can't be helped," said Cheren matter-of-factly. "Ah, here we are: route 3, the road to Nacrene City!"

* * *

Route 3 was fairly standard as routes went: a wide, grassy path surrounded by trees, beginning at the north end of the Striaton City gardens. I feel I need not go into too much detail on the gardens lest I bore the smeg out of you, but suffice it to say they were very pretty. As the four companions-

"Five!" said Whitney, gesturing to the now sparkling clean Durant.

Oh, sorry. As the five companions set out from Striaton City gardens, waved off by a few passers-by with nothing better to do, a light rain began to fall. Cheren sighed, pulling what little remained of his cape around his shoulders. Blake quickly put his hood on, then realised he already had a hat and took it off again, while Whitney gave silent thanks for having waterproof(ish) boots and Bianca ran about trying to catch raindrops on her tongue. She had almost managed to catch one when she tripped over a pokémon lying in the grass and landed in an enormous muddy puddle.

As Bianca lay there, lamenting her fate, her father's words of wisdom entered her mind: "Now, Bianca, I must insist that you get as dirty as possible while on your journey. Apparently, it boost the immune system. But don't get stuck in the mud, or go anywhere near a nuclear power station, all right?"

After a few moments, she got up from the puddle and turned around to see the long, angry face of a pokémon glaring down at her. The pokémon was a head higher than Bianca, and a jaggedy white mohawk-mane-thingy ran all the way down to her sparking tail, complete with twin thunderbolt-shaped horns on her head. Bianca gulped.

"Um, sorry I tripped over you," said Bianca. "Are... are you a blitzle?"

"No," replied the pokémon. Bianca screamed, then muffled herself as best she could until the scream subsided in order to avoid damaging anyone's ears.

"You... you... you can talk!" gasped Bianca, once she was sure no more screaming was forthcoming.

"I can indeed," replied the pokémon. "In answer to your question, no, I am not a blitzle. I am a zebstrika, and my name is Zephyr, Daughter of the Storm. What is yours?"

"I'm Bianca, Daughter of Mr Redwood. Pleased to meet you, Zephyr!" said Bianca, reasoning that the best way to deal with difficult situations was to meet them with her usual cheer and joie de vivre.

"Charmed, I'm sure. Now... Do you by any chance know of the Heroes of Truth and Ideals?" asked Zephyr.

"Um... nope," replied Bianca.

"I see. Do you then know of a dark young man with a heart of thunder, or a bright young woman with a heart of fire?" asked Zephyr. "Or a dark young woman with a heart of thunder, and so on."

"Sorry, I don't know any black people. It's not that I'm racist, it's just... you know... we're in Japan, and we've never had much immigration in my hometown. You'd have more luck in Britain, France or America, or possibly South Africa. As for the bright young woman with a heart of fire... er... I'm fairly bright, but my heart only pumps blood," replied Bianca.

Zephyr was put slightly off her stride by Bianca's speech on racial demographics, but rallied magnificently. "Ah. Well, do you know anyone called, for example, Blaine Thunderheart or Winona Flareheart? Something along those lines?" she asked.

"I do, actually," replied Bianca. "They're called Blake and Whitney."

"Blake and Whitney... Perfect!" said Zephyr happily. A look of triumph crossed her face. At long last, her search might be complete! "They'd be mighty warriors, skilled in the arts of battle, both by hand and with pokémon? Veterans of a thousand noble crusades and quests? Sworn to defend the world from evil?"

"Not exactly... We're on a mission to find out stuff about every pokémon in Unova, but we're also doing gym battles and whatnot on an unofficial basis," replied Bianca.

"Oh," said Zephyr. "Well, I'll come back in a few weeks and see how things are progressing." So saying, she reared up, her mane flashing yellow with lightning, and zoomed off so fast Bianca was bowled off her feet. After a moment, she heard a faint sonic boom off in the distance.

Bianca pondered the recent revelations for a moment, then shrugged, turning back to see Blake, Cheren and Whitney finally catching up with her. "Hey, you three!" called Bianca, rushing over. "There was this zebstrika and she was looking for some people called Blaine and Winona only they turned out to be Whitney and Blake and she thought you were both really tough but I told her you weren't, no offence, and she ran off!"

Whitney, Blake and Cheren stared at her.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait... Why are you covered in mud? Since when could zebstrikas talk?" asked Whitney.

"It's complicated," replied Bianca.

"Well, can you run that past us again?" asked Blake.

"Okey-dokey," said Bianca. "There was a zebstrika called Zephyr, and she told me she was looking for a white girl and a black boy, or possibly the other way round, and I told her she'd have more luck with racial diversity in a place like Britain or America, but it turned out she was really interested in Winona and Blaine!"

"Aren't they gym leaders from other regions?" asked Cheren.

Bianca blinked. "Oh, sorry, I meant Blake and Whitney."

"And since when was any part of Japan racist?" asked Blake, a sudden sense of patriotism welling up in his heart.

"I'm not saying it is, it's just a little less diverse than other places," replied Bianca.

"Oh. Now that you mention it, isn't the next gym leader African?" asked Blake.

"Technically, she's West Indian," Cheren pointed out.

"I see. Well, it doesn't look like any blitzles are going to show up any time soon, so let's-"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait a second time! Hold it! What was that about this Zephyr person being interested in me and young master Stormheart?" asked Whitney.

"No idea," replied Bianca. "She thought you were warriors of some sort, but when I told her we were just a bunch of teenagers on a quest to become brilliant pokémon trainers and find out lots of stuff about every pokémon in Unova, she ran off."

"I see," said Blake. Well, this was rather unexpected. A zebstrika who could talk, looking for him and Whitney? Could this have anything to do with the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation?

"Bianca, I think we're missing the real issue here: why are you all wet and muddy?" asked Cheren.

"I tripped over Zephyr. That's how I met her," replied Bianca.

"Oh, right," said Cheren. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'd rather not stand in the rain for too long. Nacrene City awaits us, as do all its warm,waterproof buildings, so I feel we needn't worry too much about Zeph-"

"Hold it!" said a loud, imperious voice, signalling the arrival of two small children in the traditional attire of dungarees and strange, round hats. Blake looked at Cheren, who looked at Bianca, who looked at Whitney, who looked back at Blake, who was fairly nonplussed to see two six-year-olds blocking his path.

"Do you two need our help or something?" asked Blake.

"As if!" scoffed the younger of the two children, a girl with politoed-shaped wellington boots.

"My brother and I are the most powerful pokémon trainers in the world, and we will not suffer you to pass unless you can defeat us."

"Oh, how adorably precocious!" giggled Bianca.

"Shut it, magikarp-for-brains!" snapped the other child, a boy with a plentitude of freckles. Bianca's face fell.

"Now, see here!" said Cheren, who had no qualms about taking a firm line with young children. "I am Cheren, son of Christobel and Gerald, firstborn of the House of McTavish, and guardian of the sacred kingdom of Nuvema, and I will not suffer you not suffering my group to pass! Stand aside at once!"

"Shan't," said the girl obstinately.

"Very well, then. I shall accept your challenge, since we seem to have no choice," said Cheren indulgently.

The boy, who hated being patronised, picked up a handful of mud and threw it at Cheren, knocking his hat off. Cheren gasped, kneeling down to check whether his hat was all right. "You're going to pay for that, you rascal!" said Cheren furiously, replacing the hat on his head and adjusting the feather until it was just right. "I shall crush whatever pathetic excuses for pokémon you have the nerve to-"

Whitney grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him to a safe distance, still ranting and raving, with a little help from Durant. "You two had better deal with the little ones. I don't know if I can protect them from Cheren and tell my pokémon what to do at the same time."

"All right," said Blake, adopting a fiercely determined pre-battle stance. "Bianca and I have decided to accept your challenge in lieu of Cheren, who is a little bit busy right at the moment." He reached for a poké-ball, deciding on the pokémon least likely to scare the children. "Darkblade, I choose you!"

"Audino! Audino no audi!" declared Darkblade, as he emerged from his pokéball.

"George, stand by for battle!" shouted Bianca, throwing George the patrat's poké-ball to the ground beside Darkblade. George materialised beside Darkblade, smartly saluting Bianca before adopting a battle-ready stance.

The two young children looked into each other's eyes, then nodded in the most dramatic way they could before retrieving a poké-ball each from their pockets.

"Go, Woobat!" declared the girl, releasing a round, light blue pokémon with a large nose and two fairly small wings.

"Woooooooobat!" the pokémon trilled, fluttering happily in midair.

"That's a new one," commented Bianca, rummaging for her pokédex.

"Munna, I choose you!" said the boy loudly, releasing a munna from his poké-ball.

"Pika! Pikachu!" said the munna, who liked to be different.

Blake examined the pokémon for a moment. He knew Darkblade lacked physical attack power, so his attacks (pound, doubleslap and last resort) wouldn't be much use, but he could also use helping hand, which would be good for George's more powerful attacks.

"Darkblade, use helping hand," Blake commanded. Darkblade nodded, then gave George a warm, loving embrace, giving the patrat a little extra strength for his next attack.

"What a brilliant idea!" commented Bianca. "George, use bite on one of those enemy pokémon!"

George politely but firmly pushed Darkblade aside and rushed at the munna.

"Quick, use psybeam!" shouted the boy, and his munna hastened to obey, sending a stream of psychic energy at George. George leapt aside, only to take a vicious assurance attack from the woobat which would surely have finished him off if the psybeam had hit. George bit the munna square on the nose, and she screamed with pain as the dark power of biting someone overwhelmed her psychic powers.

"Well done, George!" said Bianca triumphantly. "Now quick, tackle that woobat!"

"Oh, no you don't!" shouted the boy. "Munna, give it another psybeam!"

"Pika!" acknowledged the munna, readying a psybeam. George gulped.

"You use psybeam too, Woobat! Unless you can't, in which case use gust!" ordered the girl.

"Bat woobat!" said the woobat determinedly. The two pokémon sent a blast of psychic energy and a ferocious gust of wind at George, who was beginning to feel his number was up.

"Intercept them, Darkblade!" ordered Blake. Darkblade rushed into the gust and psybeam's path, managing to deflect a little of their energy with a doubleslap before he was bowled off his feet. The munna and woobat celebrated, but it was short-lived, as George smacked head-first into the munna. This time, she fainted.

"Oh, no! Munna!" wailed the boy.

"Don't worry. Woobat's more than powerful enough to win this fight!" the girl reassured him. "You hear that, Woobat?! Use confusion!"

"How about another helping-hand-bite combo?" Bianca whispered to Blake.

"Okey-dokey," replied Blake. "Use helping hand again!"

"Then you use bite, George!" Bianca elaborated.

Darkblade, being somewhat pressed for time, limited himself to kissing George on the cheek. George then leapt at the woobat, baring his fangs. With a cry of "Woooooobat!", the fluffy blue bat pokémon sent a wave of highly confusing psychic energy at George, but he smashed through unharmed and bit the woobat's wing. He wailed in pain, then slapped George with his other wing, sending the patrat tumbling across the ground. He was by no means out for the count, though.

"All right, a quick tackle should do for the woobat. Go for it, George!" ordered Bianca.

"Back him up with pound!" commanded Blake.

"Audino!" shouted Darkblade, as he charged towards the woobat.

"Patrat rat!" agreed George, and he charged as well.

"Bat! Woobat!" wailed the woobat, realising his end was near, at least temporarily.

"Don't give up, Woobat! You can surv-" began the girl, but she was unable to finish, due to her beloved woobat being thrown onto her face by the impact. She cradled the woobat in her arms, looking decidedly miserable. "But... but why?" the girl said softly, looking up to face her companion. "We were the greatest, brother! No-one else could even hope to defeat us!"

"It could be because you're both six years old and you've only ever challenged relatively unskilled pokémon trainers," said a new voice, belonging to a kindly woman with a large umbrella.

"Oh, shut it, you miserable old bat!" snapped the young boy.

The kindly woman gave him a dirty look. "Okay, why don't the two of you get back to the nursery and dry off while I have a little chat with these two?" she suggested.

"Very well," sniffed the boy. "Return, Munna," he added, recalling his munna into her pokéball.

"Oh, Woobat, will we never see your like again?!" wailed the girl, as the two headed off along the rather wet route.

"I'm sorry about those two," said the kindly woman, after she'd made sure they went in the right direction. "They seem to have got it into their heads that they're brilliant pokémon trainers, and they keep harassing anyone who tries to use route 3."

"That's quite all right," Blake assured her.

"Anyway, I'm Marion, from the preschool a few minutes' walk back along the route. If you want somewhere to wait for the rain to stop, and possibly have a bath, you can join us," offered the woman.

"Thank you for your generous offer," said Cheren, arriving with Whitney beside her, "but my friends and I are warriors, proud and independant. We must complete our quest to-"

"I'd love to come!" declared Bianca.

"So would I," agreed Blake.

"But-" began Cheren.

"I've always believed in the kindness of strangers!" Whitney interrupted him. "Thank you very much, Marion."

* * *

Meanwhile, fifteen years ago, during a rainy day on this very route, a young, green-haired boy was in serious trouble.

"Tell us where it is!" ordered the Team Rocket thug, cuffing the boy he was restraining on the forehead.

"I-I don't know!" wailed the boy.

"TELL US WHERE UNOVA'S BIGGEST POPULATION CENTRE IS!" shouted the thug, making as if to break the boy's arm.

"I don't know! I'm only seven!" said the boy, tears streaming down his rather dirty cheeks.

"All right..." growled the thug. "Ariana! Tickle his feet until he squawks."

A second thug hastened to obey, throwing the boy down on the muddy grass and unceremoniously removing his shoes.

"Please!" wailed the boy. "I'm just a little kid! I don't know anything!"

"I know," sneered Ariana, taking a feather duster from her pocket, "but here's the thing: we're evil." Roughly, she grabbed the boy's right ankle and started tickling his foot without mercy. Helpless with mirth, the boy thrashed wildly around, almost kicking the first thug's nose in the process, until after five minutes which seemed like years, Ariana finally released the boy's ankle.

"He's too strong," she sighed, leading the other thug over to a pile of equipment a short way away. "We'll have to break out the big guns."

The boy gulped. Big guns didn't sound especially good for him, unless perhaps he was the one firing them, but there was no way he could get away. He would just have to hope Arceus was feeling generous...

"_Excuse me,_" said a female voice with a strange, ethereal quality that made it need to be italicised.

"Y-yes?" said the boy quietly.

"_Are you, by any chance, in need of assistance?_" asked the voice.

The boy took a look past his shoulder, then almost screamed. There, talking to him, was a purrloin!

"C-can you help me?" asked the boy, hardly daring to believe what was happening.

"_I probably can,_" replied the purrloin, and baring her fangs, she leapt at Ariana.

"Aaaaaargh! Get off me!" wailed Ariana, batting the purrloin aside.

"Purrloin! Loin purr purrloin!" snapped the purrloin, which the boy heard as "_Shut your face, you miserable old bat!_"

"Bloody pokémon, always trying to do good deeds..." sighed the male thug. "Then again, they're not without their uses. Geodude, get that cat!" He threw a poké-ball at the purrloin, releasing a pokémon the boy had never seen before. It looked like a small, round boulder with two eyes, a scowling mouth and a pair of muscular arms.

"Geodude! Geo!" declared the pokémon.

"Get that purrloin!" ordered the thug.

"And you, Zubat!" agreed Ariana, releasing a second pokémon. This one was a purple, bat-like creature, with no eyes but a very large mouth, from which protruded four sharp fangs. The boy watched on in horror as the purrloin battled with the thugs' pokémon, only to be thrown roughly aside like a sack of mouldy beetroots. The enemy pokémon had been so savage, they hadn't even given her time to faint and start recovering from her injuries. He started to cry.

"Now then, my young friend," said Ariana evilly, "how'd you like some salt rubbed into your wounds?"

The boy watched in horror as she retrieved a salt shaker from her other pocket. "Um, begging your pardon, miss, I don't have any wounds."

"We'll soon see about that," declared Ariana. "Zubat, time for dinner!"

The boy shut his eyes, praying for a quick end. The zubat licked her lips, eyeing up all his tastiest parts, readying some venom to give him a little extra-

"Take this, you black-hearted cretin!" shouted a loud, angry voice.

The boy opened his eyes again, and his heart leapt; there in front of him was a man with green hair like his own, complete with an unusual diadem and eyepiece, giving the Team Rocket thugs some pause for thought with a long stick. After a few whacks, they ran away with their tails between their legs, and the mysterious man, barely out of breath, turned his attention to the boy.

"You... you saved me!" breathed the boy, as the rather violent man took a look at him.

"I certainly did," replied the man. "I'm Ghetsis Harmonia. Who are you?"

"N-n-n-n-n..." stammered the boy, momentatily unable to force his name out of his mouth.

"N? That's an unusual name, but so's Ghetsis, I suppose... Tell me, how do you feel about a nice, hot bath and a cup of tea?"

"That... that'd be wonderful!" declared N, as he would henceforth be known. "But... but what about the purrloin?"

Ghetsis frowned. "Who?"

"The purrloin who tried to rescue me before you did! Those horrible pokémon might've killed her!" wailed N.

Ghetsis gave a world-weary sigh. "I'm afraid a minority of people are capable of some truly terrific acts of cruelty, and that tends to rub off on pokémon around them. Really, they're no better than those civilisations which used to keep slaves..."

"She spoke to me," said N softly.

"What?! Spoke to you?! Who did?" cried Ghetsis.

"The purrloin," replied N. "I know it sounds crazy, but she did!"

Ghetsis blinked, then a smile spread across his face. "Well, my boy, I can tell you're a little bit special in more ways than one. Tell me, who are your parents?"

N's face fell. "Gone," he replied dolefully.

"Oh. Well, I suppose you'd better come with me," said Ghetsis. "And don't worry about the purrloin. It's all part of the great circle of life..."

* * *

N sighed, looking down at the pokémon sitting in his lap. "You'll see, Purrloin. Your sister's sacrifice won't be for nothing. One day, all human cruelties will be erased from the world, and pokémon will finally be free!"

"Purrloin! Loin purr!" said the purrloin happily.

"Are you ready, N?" said a voice, which turned out to belong to Melissa. She was the only person N was willing to see before he gave the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation one of his speeches, and her encouragement was always of help.

"Pretty much," replied N. He and Melissa made their way through the sparse but well-lit corridors of the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation's secret base, coming eventually to a vast auditorium/amphitheatre, containing row upon row of seats packed with P.L.A.S.M.A foundation operatives. N and Melissa entered via the back door, where three stylish (some might say garish) chairs were arranged high above the crowd: one for N, one for Melissa and one for Ghetsis. The other six of the Seven Sages sat on slightly less fancy chairs either side of them.

"Ladies and gentleman, all hail N, the King of the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation!" declared Ghetsis, once N and Melissa had sat down.

"Hail!" chorused the assembled people, punching the air in dramatic unison.

N waited for the latecomers to finish hailing him, then spoke. "Friends, pokémon, agents of P.L.A.S.M.A, lend me your ears! Today is a fairly ordinary day, but tomorrow will be much better, for it marks the beginning of our campaign to end the oppression of pokémon. At dawn the next day, Gorm of the Seven Sages will lead a detatchment of our finest warriors to raid Nacrene City's museum. The museum holds an artefact vital to our operations, and we must get a hold of it, by force if absolutely necessary. There may be pokémon battles involved, but as I am sure you know, until our scientists can finish designing some weapons as effective as pokémon attacks, we have to work within the system to defeat it. Any questions?"

N waited for a few moments. No questions were forthcoming, so he carried on. "Now, there is a second, rather more delicate matter I need to discuss with you. A few days ago, three of our agents were arrested in Striaton City for beating up a wild munna," said N gravely. Gasps of horror rose from the crowd, and N pressed on. "There is no place in the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation for cruel, selfish people who simply want to profit from our activities, nor is there room for those who delight in being part of a secret paramilitary organisation. I'm not saying we can't enjoy the good work we do, it's just... um..."

"If any of you hurt a living being just for the sake of it, or destroy buildings or the environment, I'll make you eat your own foot!" Melissa supplied. "Bloody scumbags, trying to ruin us from within... you deserve to die! I'll make you all pay for this! I HATE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!" Suddenly, she gasped and doubled over, clutching at her heart. She breathed heavily for a few moments, then sat back down, looking slightly sheepish.

"It's her blood pressure," Ghetsis whispered. "She can't really control herself."

"Anyway," said N meaningfully, "to sum up: raid on Nacrene Museum led by Zinzolin. Keep violence to a minimum. Some inevitable pokémon battles. Only honourable P.L.A.S.M.A agents welcome. Thank you. Goodbye."

"PLASMA!" cheered the assembled P.L.A.S.M.A operatives, having adopted their acronym as a sort of rallying cry.

"A most excellent speech, my boy! As speeches go, that was definitely... a speech," said Ghetsis, as he, N and Melissa made their way to the cafeteria (it was a pre-lunch speech).

"Thank you," replied N. He was glad to see how determined the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation were to achieve their goals, and even Melissa's zealous rage was good in a way. However, the three black-hearted traitorous brutes responsible for that business in the Dreamyard weighed upon his mind. Could it be that someone higher up in the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation had masterminded the whole thing?...


	6. Chapter 6

**~Chapter Six: The Battle of Wellspring Cave, or the Part where Cheren Finally Gets the Final Word~**

It was a fine morning in Nacrene City: pidoves and tranquills raised their voices in song to greet the dawn, the smell of recently dampened earth suffused the nostrils of all who had a sense of smell, and Bianca's clothes were still wet, so she had to make do with a purple t-shirt and a pair of brown Bermuda shorts. Nevertheless, she was as bright and cheery as always, even more so now that she knew where the helmet-disguised-as-a-hat shop was.

"I think I'll get a fedora," said Bianca, as the group wandered past Nacrene City's many old warehouses, which now served as shops, "or possibly a sombrero. Do you think I'd look good in a sou'wester? A top hat? A straw boater? Ooh, I know, a beret!"

Blake and Cheren weren't particularly surprised (although Whitney was, but had the decency to keep it to herself): Bianca was from Kalos, and fashion was big business there, particularly berets.

"I think this is it," said Cheren, gesturing with his now slightly weather-beaten staff to a fairly ordinary-looking warehouse, with faded brown walls, large, newly painted green doors and a flashing blue neon sign, which read: "Ulysses McCoy's Stylish Headgear and Helmet Emporium - Wigs Fitted while you Wait".

"Wish me luck, then," said Bianca, making her way into the shop.

After she had gone, Cheren cleared his throat in a meaningful way. "Now, my plans for today are-"

"Go to Wellspring Cave, right? I'd quite like to capture a roggenrola," Blake butted in.

Cheren, by now used to it, kept goint without missing a beat. "Quite. Wellspring Cave is our first destination, then we shall focus on being pokémon trainers for a few days until we are ready to challenge Lenora, this fair city's gym leader. After that, Pinwheel Forest and its myriad pokémon await us!"

"It'll take us a while to catalogue all the forest-dwelling species, won't it?" asked Blake.

"Correct," replied Cheren, "which is why we'll camp out in the middle of the forest."

"Oh, right," said Blake. He should probably have known they would need to sleep under the stars sooner or later; there were only so many pokémon centres in the world.

"Don't you mean "awesometastic"?" asked Whitney.

"I suppose it's sort of awesome-ish, but I wouldn't know about tastic..." replied Blake.

"Are you kidding? Who could say no to living on your wits miles away from civilisation, with nothing but a few friends, some pokémon and what little you can carry?!" demanded Whitney, ever the wild, tomboyish explorer. "Durant and I usually slept in trees or soft piles of leaves until we met you lot," she went on, "and we loved every minute of it!"

Durant gave a high-pitched metallic squeak of approval.

"You've got a point," acknowledged Blake. "And who knows? It might be tastic after all..."

After a few ever-so-slightly boring minutes, Bianca emerged from the hat shop with a spring in her step and a grin like a slice of watermelon on her face. And as for her head, there sat a wide, floppy, pale green beret with a white stripe running around the sides.

"Oho! A fine choice of hat, for a fine choice of... fine choice of...? cheery fourteen-year-old girl... large appetite... plaited pigtails?... A fine choice of hat!" declared Cheren.

"I know. That's why I chose it!" said Bianca. "It's waterproof, shock-proof, non-flammable, non-corrodible, shatter-resistant and made from 100% recycled materials. I love it so much!"

Cheren blinked. His hat was just vaguely waterproof and brown.

"It definitely suits you," commented Blake.

"But doesn't this mean I'm the only representative of bare-headedness in our group?" Whitney pointed out. "That's a lot of pressure for one person..."

Durant nudged her leg. "Oh, sorry, you don't have a hat either, do you?" Whitney conceded.

"Quite right," agreed Cheren. "Now, the day is yet young, but our schedule is far from empty. Onwards, my broth- um, siblings, to Wellspring-"

"Help! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" shouted a young girl, obviously distressed, as she rushed over the long-abandoned train tracks in front of the converted warehouses, which harked back to Nacrene City's days as the freight hub of Unova.

"Oh, for Arceus's sake! Why does something always interrupt me?! Can't I get through just one sentence without-"

"Be quiet, would you, Cheren? I think we should listen to her," Blake interrupted.

The girl, who had overheard, ran over and gave Blake a hug. "Oh, thank goodness! I've been screaming my tonsils off for half an hour, and no-one's done a bloomin' thing!"

"Well, we're here now, and we'll help you, bloomin' things or otherwise. What's wrong?" asked Blake.

"I was out for a walk with Sandy, my lillipup, but some nasty people called the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation came and took her, and they hurt my brother and took him too, and they said I was..." she remembered for a few seconds, "a vile, black-hearted, exploitative guttersnipe with less honour than a Lithuanian greengrocer and a heart like flint!"

Bianca gasped. "How horrible! We need to teach them a jolly good lesson."

"I wouldn't. My brother tried to protect me, and he's a totally ace pokémon trainer, but one of the nasty people knocked him out with a book!" the girl pointed out. "It was a poetry book, I think."

"Poetry or otherwise, it is the duty of all sons and daughters of Nuvema Town to root out evil wherever it lurks," Cheren pointed out. "Tell me, where have the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation taken your brother and pokémon? And while you're at it, why didn't anybody listen to you before we heard your cries?"

"Well, some of the townsfolk sort of think I have maybe a sort of tendency to stir up trouble..." said the girl shiftily, "but it's not true! Anyway, this is just beating about the bush. Sandy and Talbot (that's my brother) are in Wellspring Cave. Come on!"

"Wait!" said Cheren urgently. "Before we go..." He cleared his throat. "Cheren's log, Friday the seventeenth of April: we have received a distress call from a young lady whose brother and pokémon companion have been-"

"Cheren, this is not the time!" snapped Blake, Whitney and Bianca simultaneously.

"Are we going or what?" asked the girl.

So saying, the girl ran off in the direction she had come from, followed by Blake, Whitney, Bianca and Cheren. If the Dreamyard incident was anything to go by, they shouldn't have much trouble dealing with the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation, even if they had been able to defeat the girl's "totally ace" brother. On the other hand, who knew how powerful the Foundation really was? Up until a few months ago, when P.L.A.S.M.A spokespeople started making public speeches and appearing on the television, no-one had even heard of them. Was that just because they only really got going a few months ago, or was there a more long-term scheme in operation?...

* * *

"There's the cave," said the as-yet nameless girl, gesturing to an outcropping of brown rock, pushing up between the trees and grass of route three like an island at the centre of a green, leafy lake. A cave entrance was clearly visible, with fire or some other light source casting an orange glow from within, and above the entrance was a banner, bearing the legend "Cave claimed by the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation: trespassers will be prosecuted."

"They're not very good at secrecy, are they?" Whitney pointed out.

"Indeed," said Cheren. "Now, would you recommend a frontal assault, or something more careful?"

"There's only one entrance to the cave, so it'll have to be a frontal assault, won't it?" asked the girl.

"Not necessarily," said Bianca. "Suppose we were to let all of our pokémon out of their poké-balls and pretend to be a large group of pokémon rights campaigners. Then they'd let us in, and at the right moment, we could strike!"

"That's a wonderful idea," said Cheren approvingly, "but completely pointless. What the girl said is true: a frontal assault would be best. Are you all ready?"

"Of course," replied Whitney. "And so's Durant," she added, noticing the metallic pokémon's look of intense readiness.

"As am I," said Blake.

"I still think we should go for my plan, but if you've got your hearts set on the direct approach, that's fine by me," said Bianca.

"All right, then," said Cheren, carefully adjusting his hat for maximum dashingness, "let's revolve!"

"Roll," Blake corrected him.

"What?" asked Cheren.

"It's "let's roll", not revolve," Blake elaborated. "And may I just say that wasn't really in keeping with your mature, sensible persona?"

"Oh. Well, I'm only human..." said Cheren, more than a little bit embarrased.

"In that case, the duty of battle-cries falls to me. Tally ho!" Whitney butted in, and she and Durant rushed off to the cave.

"After her! The game's afoot and all that!" shouted Cheren, glad to be taken off the spot. He, Blake, Bianca and the girl charged into Wellspring Cave, hot on Whitney's heels, kicking up dust and water as they went, and there, waiting for them, was a lillipup and a distinct absence of P.L.A.S.M.A agents.

"It's Sandy! Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" cried the girl, as the lillipup ran into her arms and set about licking her face as if it was the tastiest face in the world.

"And is that your brother?" asked Cheren, gesturing to a severely wounded boy lying on the floor of the cave.

"I suppose so," replied the girl nonchalantly. "Hey, Talbot, wake up!"

The boy groaned, indicating that, while he would like to get up, it probably wouldn't be happening any time soon. Blake and Bianca lifted him gently onto his feet (which wasn't as easy as either of them thought it would be), but he was still barely conscious.

"What have they done to him?" asked Whitney under her breath, clearly horrified.

"My thoughts entirely. Good heavens, man, what have they done to you?!" demanded Cheren.

"I thought I told you, they hit him over the head with a book of poetry! More to the point, where are all his pokémon?" the girl asked, adding, "He had a tranquill, a pansage and a watchog."

"Obviously the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation stole them," Cheren suggested.

"Don't you think they'll be coming back here, then?" asked Bianca. "I mean, if they're willing to beat someone up and take his pokémon, they must be serious about this."

"Of course they will," replied Cheren, "and we'll be ready for them. In fact, I'll wager somewhere within the region of five P.L.A.S.M.A agents are going to come charging into this cave right about-"

"What in the Distortion Realm are you lot doing in our cave?! Didn't you read the sign?" demanded a predictable voice, coming from a middle-aged man in the usual P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation armoured raincoat. Beside him stood several more P.L.A.S.M.A agents, three of whom were human (Cheren's guess was a little bit off), silhouetted against the daylight outside the cave.

The girl gasped. "It's them!"

Blake reached casually down to Samantha's pokéball, noticing Cheren, Whitney and Bianca doing the same. In his mind, he was already running through the numerous (well, one or two) strategies he had developed for battling with Samantha, and he hoped the others were doing the same.

Cheren got straight to the point. "I presume I am addressing a representative of the Pokémon Liberation And Separatism Movement Agency Foundation?"

"That's right. What of it?" asked the P.L.A.S.M.A spokesman.

"Then you'd be the ones who shamelessly and with malice aforethought kidnapped this fine young lillipup, who, incidentally, seems quite happy to be with her human friend again. Well, we're putting a stop to it! You most certainly have the right to curb the excesses of cruel and thoughtless humans, but in beating a young boy up and kidnapping pokémon who are loved and cared for, you have proven yourselves no better than Team Rocket. What have you to say for yourselves?!" demanded Cheren. For all his shenanigans, he looked like he meant business, so it felt perfectly natural for Bianca, Whitney and Blake to assemble themselves into a phalanx with him at its head. They didn't, though, deciding it looked better to stand side-by-side.

The P.L.A.S.M.A agents were not impressed, least of all their spokesman. "Let me make something clear: all pokémon trainers are evil, and you being all self-righteous won't change a thing. You force innocent pokémon to unleash havoc upon each other, then claim the glory for yourselves. Do the pokémon get any say in this?"

"Of course they do!" said Bianca hotly. "I always ask a pokémon's permission before I catch it."

"That's as may be, but you're in a minority. If you stand in the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation's way, then in the name of all pokémon, we will show you no mercy!" declared the spokesman.

"You don't have the right!" said Blake angrily. He had never been one to not stand up to bullies, and while this lot weren't exactly common-or-garden mean people, they definitely needed taking down a peg. "Who are you to decide pokémon training isn't allowed any more?! And for that matter, how do you intend to put a stop to it? What about disabled people who need pokémon to care for them?!"

"They're fine," another P.L.A.S.M.A agent spoke up, "as long as the pokémon are offering their help willingly."

"Okay, think about this," Whitney piped up. "Pokémon are capable of levelling mountains, eating solid steel, melting diamonds, causing forests to spring up from deserts, creating vast lakes and volcanoes, even remaking the universe, and there are sixty times as many of them on this planet as there are humans. That's four hundred and twenty billion pokémon! Tell me, how could humans subjugate such a populous and powerful race?"

The P.L.A.S.M.A agents glanced at each other. "Give us a moment, would you?" asked the designated spokesman, and they went into a huddle, whispering fiercely amongst themselves. After a few moments, they were ready to respond.

"Your pathetic derailing arguments won't get you anywhere!" snapped the spokesman. "You've tresspassed on your last cave, you meddling brats. P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation, go forth and conquer!"

The four human P.L.A.S.M.A agents retrieved the usual wooden bludgeons from the folds of their armoured raincoats, and the group surged forwards. There must have been at least fifteen of them in total, and Blake suddenly felt very much out of his depth, even with his two best friends and one bushy-haired girl he met a few days ago there beside him. On the other hand, if this was to be some sort of free-for-all melee, every man, woman or 'mon for itself, standard league rules almost certainly didn't apply.

"Samantha, Lilly, Patrick, Darkblade, Lyoko, attack!" shouted Blake, tossing all his poké-balls at the P.L.A.S.M.A operatives. The oshawott, lillipup, patrat, audino and purrloin materialised with five flashes of light all at once, which was almost blinding. Samantha quickly took the lead, giving a rousing cry of "Oshawott! Wott osha oshawott wott!", Lyoko ignored her, Darkblade gave an enemy sandile a cuddle, Lilly bit the P.L.A.S.M.A spokesman on the ankle and Patrick found himself cornered by two pansears. Bianca and Cheren's pokémon were fighting as well, with varying degrees of success, although Durant was still the only of Whitney's pokémon to be seen.

"I don't think we can hold them off!" cried Bianca, trying desparately to wrest her brand-new hat from the arms of a watchog.

"Speak for yourself," retorted Whitney, who, working in tandem with Durant, had lain low the other three human P.L.A.S.M.A agents.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" groaned Talbot, who had been taken to a safe corner in the back of the cave, and was now watched over by Sandy and his sister.

"Stop talking! This is a fight, for pity's sake!" shouted Cheren.

"We surrender!" wailed one of the P.L.A.S.M.A agents, momentarily regaining consciousness.

"Is that a unanimous vote?" asked Whitney.

"I suppose so..." sighed the P.L.A.S.M.A spokesman. He slumped down on the floor of the cave, his ankle only now released by Lilly, to await whatever horrible punishment these young agents of evil would mete out to him.

"All right! We did it!" whooped Bianca, raising her hand to high-five anyone willing. After a few awkward seconds, she lowered her hand, looking slightly sheepish.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," said N, to the rather worried messenger standing in front of the special desk he used for dealing with unsuccessful agents. "Four teenagers, one incapacitated enemy, a preteen girl and lots of pokémon managed to defeat our advance scouting party?"

"That's right, my lord," replied the messenger, playing nervously with a strand of her unwieldy purple hair. "One of them had a durant," she added.

N was not angry; he considered himself above such things as vindictive rage, and besides, it wasn't the messenger's fault. "Tell me, what did Gorm have to say for himself?"

"Well, he, uh, said the advance party underestimated the pokémon trainers. He claimed it was a disgraceful faliure to anticipate the power of our enemy, and whoever was responsible should be sacked immediately," replied the messenger.

"And what do you think?" asked N.

"Well..." said the messenger, "quite frankly, I think Gorm's to blame. Tactical decisions were his responsibility, and..."

"I see," said N. "Go and fetch Gorm, would you?"

As the messenger rushed off to summon Gorm, N found himself wondering what he was like at her age. True, he was only about three years older, but in his mind he was already a great deal more experienced. It was mainly thanks to Ghetsis. The old warrior had taken N as his son and opened his eyes to how badly pokémon were treated; when was the last time a pokémon had presented a TV programme released a hit single, or even spoke fluent Japanese? It was thanks to him that N had met Melissa and the other six of the Seven Sages, and Ghetsis had been a major part in N's martial arts training as well. Every living thing had untapped potential, and it was thanks to people and/or pokémon like Ghetsis that a lucky few of them could achieve that potential.

_When I take over Unova, no-one will have to go through life without knowing the power inside them,_ N promised himself. He was brought out of his thoughts by a mild kerfuffle outside his office.

"Look here, you purple-haired prat, I'm busy! Whatever N wants can wait!" snapped the vaguely Lancashirian voice of the sage Gorm.

"I don't care if you were in the middle of changing the batteries on your jet-powered hairdryer, if Lord N wants to see you, I'll make it happen!" retorted the messenger. The door burst open, and N was only mildly surprised to see her dragging Gorm in by his oversized grey beard.

"Ah, Gorm," said N amiably, "do take a seat. I have much to discuss with you."

Gorm sighed, lifting up his purple robes and sitting primly on the chair opposite N. "Can this not be too long, Your Majesty? Only I was in the middle of drawing up some battle plans, and you know how these things are..."

"I do know how these things are," N assured the sage, "which is why I'd like to know why you so seriously underestimated the four warriors who defeated our advance scouting party."

Gorm shifted nervously. "Well, it's like this. The advance party was, as their name would suggest, sent in advance, so I wasn't there to estimate any threats. Apparently the enemies got the drop on them. So you see, it wasn't really my fault."

"Oh," said N. "Well, in that case, you've done nothing wrong. Thank you for your time, Gorm."

Gorm blinked. "Really?"

"I am not in the habit of lying to any of my army of light, least of all the Sages," N pointed out.

"I see. Well, if there's nothing more you want of me, I shall return to my plans," said Gorm, with a certain amount of relief.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," said N mysteriously. "I'll be taking command of the attack on Nacrene City myself. Can't be to careful, can we?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Gorm conceded. "May I ask when you plan to attack next?"

"I'd say... Tuesday, maybe Wednesday if it's wet. No later than Friday, though," replied N. "You may leave now."

Gorm rose to his feet and made his way out, giving the messenger a rather nasty look in the process.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty, are you sure you can trust Gorm?" asked the messenger, once Gorm was out of earshot.

N gave her a funny look. "Of course! I mean, who can I trust if not my inner circle? I might as well put a webcam in Ghetsis's room and start listening in on Melissa!"

"If you say so, Sire," the messenger conceded.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," said the police officer, it being a good way to start part of a story in medias res, "you took on four members of a criminal organization alone, without even considering calling the police or telling a responsible adult?"

"That's right," replied Cheren. It was early afternoon in Nacrene City, and the P.L.A.S.M.A agents were being frogmarched into the police station, while a chansey tended to Tablot's wounds and Cheren explained his group's actions, of which his were, of course, the bravest and most competent.

The policeman grinned. "Well done, you four! That's exactly the way a responsible Unovan child should behave."

"Oh, it was nothing!" said Bianca, a blush developing on each cheek.

"Although, if what you say is true, the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation is a serious threat. How long will the four of you be in Nacrene City?" asked the policeman.

"Not more than a week, I'm sure," replied Cheren.

"But my sister and I are here to stay," Talbot interjected. He was going to be wheelchair-bound for a month or so, but with Sandy and his sister to look after him, he was sure to be fine.

"Right... that gives us less than a week to get our defences in order. You must understand that Unova's never been threatened by war or criminal gangs before, what with evil being the least common of all political alignments and humans and pokémon living in harmony and all that, so this is a bit new to us. You children will keep an eye out for the P.L.A.S.M.A Foundation on your travels, won't you?" the officer enquired.

"Of course!" replied Cheren. "As warriors of Nuvema Town, we are sworn to root out evil wherever it may lurk. You can count on us."

"Actually, it's funny you should mention Nuvema Town, but there's a semi-retired samurai there called Ravyn Stormheart. She's my mother, so I know she's trustworthy," Blake pointed out.

"I see. Well, thank you for your cooperation," said the policeman, and he strode purposefully off to phone Blake's mother.

After a few minutes, Whitney decided to bring to the fore something that had been in her mind. "Blake, your name's Blake Stormheart, and your mother's called Ravyn?"

"Yes," replied Blake, slightly nervous about what point she was about to make.

"Doesn't that strike you as a little bit contrived?" asked Whitney.

"Contrived? I suppose it could be, but... Well, you're one to talk, Whitney Blazeheart the Complete Hoyden, Battle-Strategist and Free Spirit!" Blake pointed out. "Besides, my family have a long-standing history of greatness."

"I see," said Whitney, making a mental note never to encourage Blake to develop Aura powers or get a black belt in karate. "Cheren, you're always on about the ancient and noble house of McTavish. Have you anything to say?"

"Of course!" replied Cheren. Blake and Bianca sighed. They knew what was coming. "The founding fathers and mothers of the House of McTavish arrived in Unova in 257 BC on a three-masted ship, launched from Berwick-upon-Tweed. They sailed for three weeks, facing mighty sea monsters and dragons not to be found in any modern pokédex, until at last they arrived here in Japan and settled Nuvema Town. In 249 BC, the first great hero of the McTavishes rose to fame: a mighty warrior, Caitlin McTavish, who rode a zebstrika and wielded a sword of solidified lunar iron. The rogue ninjas of ancient Opelucid City tried to steal her thunder, but-"

"Cheren, how much of this is actually true?" asked Bianca.

"Absolutely none," replied Cheren, completely unabashed. "Come along, now; we need to heal our pokémon, then get some more practice on the field of battle."

"That's music to my ears!" delcared Whitney.

"And perfume to my nose, sugar to my tongue, a nice picture to my eyes and a fluffy blanket to my skin," said Bianca, who liked taking things to their logical extremes.

"Soft, springy grass to my feet?" suggested Blake.

"Cool, squishy mud to mine," Whitney agreed, "or a mountain stream at a pinch."

Blake and Bianca were bad enough, but Whitney as well was too much for Cheren. "Will you stop it?!" he cried.

"We might, if it were worth our-"

"SHUT UP!" shouted Cheren.

Blake, Whitney and Bianca stared at him, too surprised to speak. Cheren could not help but grin: at long last, he had got the last word.


End file.
